And when they leave,they take your life of details with them. You are expected to move on again, but you don't remember what it was that moved you, because no one's asked you in so long. Not even yourself.
We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves.