Vassar Student Review

Vassar Student Review

Memory Like an Echo

By Emma Goss

I want you to feel better:

the malleability of memory making grief so perplexing,

an utterly strange pause—

how is mourning possible when memory is contrived from

past plus desire?

I am missing being sure,

or what it felt like to weep and know exactly why.

Exactly where?


Maybe memory has its own body, its own spell.

You watch it closely:

She is tall but she is loving,

I comb my hair until it breaks;

your freckles increase with summer.


An echo goes on indefinitely, I tell you.

Because there are so many ways to wait,

and even more ways to listen.

Perhaps, memory is what we can’t reach.

It must be odd for...

I kick around the dust...

There is a horrendous roar...

if the mountains call for...

when you’re at the bottom...

I love you mint chocolate...


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