what’s for dinner kids?

“I’ll you, as the symbol of love’s forgetfulness. I’ll think of this story as the horror of forgetting. I already know it”
the horror of letting someone to see you, truly see you is already unbearable on its own. but how would it translate if you knew it was temporarily? how can one describe nudity of soul to one that you might eventually forget? how can you keep the memories without suffocating on it? will you forget? do you want to forget?