Mind Tug

I really like the mind tug of being unable to fully
capture,
in the whole sense,
but instead,
catching only a
glimpse,
seeing a snapshot in my mind, only
fleetingly
of your face, and that place, and what it was to
be
where or then or with or
feeling that thing.

Pleading with my mind to follow the tug and take me
take me
back
to that time to those things I can’t conjure but would recognise, would
know
if only I could reclaim them to find what it is that is the
familiar
in that smile, the creases in the corners of those eyes, and
that particular
moment
of my life and what I thought (or what I didn’t think) when I was lost in the midst
of that point in those arms of that hug.

And this tug ends as it always does, with a
resignation
that the briefness of the
again
will leave me in the same place I was before, and
whatever it is will remain, just
beyond,
beyond my reach. Elusive.
A loosening of my grip around the
exactness
of what the present was
before it became the past that it now is.