My gaze asks the questions I want to: Who are you? Who were you? What do you dream of? Where do you find freedom? Tell me of movement, migration, burden, of having to choose which parts of your life to keep, which to let fall away. Tell me you know this feeling which haunts me sometimes, this sadness on my shoulders. After a long exhale, Pops opens his mouth to tell me what he can remember, what he cannot forget.
