Remembering

Sometimes I like to leave the room,
leave the movie playing on the VCR,
leave my collection of film moments
on closet shelves exactly where they are.

Sometimes I like to return to the couch,
return to the story that's jumped to someplace new,
return to the collection of throw pillows
on our two-piece sectional and sit beside you.

But then I have woken, and I've started to learn
that the cream in my coffee makes it softer.
And the screen on my TV does the same to experience
no matter how crisp or sharp the resolution.

Before memory starts when I first wake,
I fill in the blanks for the life I make.