Like a ball and chain we drag our histories along with us,
Bearing their weight through our impressioned mind.
Our constant concerns sustain these stories,
Smothering us like layers of an archeological dig.
We're surrounded by our fossilized memories,
Floundering in their tangled knots.
Unless we fathom true forgetfulness of our shadow self,
Unless we recognize the Beloved's self-effacing fire.