Memory

The music pours out almost effortlessly and transports you
to another place, another time, another you, another them.
and you smile.
The fondness of the people,
the gestures, expressions, events.
You smile at the possibility of the memory.
Its yours, in the way you perceived it and no one can take that away from you.
Something that is innately yours, your perspective.
Your version
Your point of view.
Yours.

It's sort of your identity
and you guard it.

You guard it with your life,
sharing it with only a few deserving ones,
and then regretting it later as they brushed it away with a small smile,
and not total acknowledgement.
Almost as if shunning you, and the privacy that you exposed to share.