Walking memory

I have walked these streets before. Like tiny gems dropped along the way I collect the pieces of memory and put them in their place amongst the stars. Like a ghost I appear to be resurrected in the moment as a women free from the death of yesterday. I have seen their faces in dreams. I have said words without the means of understanding of who I am destined to be. Along the shores of sunlit seamlessness there is an echo of confusion from those who I left behind one Sun cycle ago. All the seasons have washed clean the days when we walked these streets as a band to be; now we walk independently of the need to see through another's eyes.