A museum where all the works have vanished leaving only the signs behind

something astonishing
mnemonics setting up
within a vague preconsciousness
a delicate sense of holding
the entire world
as a shattered egg shell
not entirely fallen apart
yet
but in that tender moment
even the softest light
of consciousness
becomes everything
it centers the world around it
its intention
the focus
remember
the rewriting of one of
Shakespeare's plays
the tempest on a tortoise shell
enough to bring it all back
but it is not
only the mnemonic remains
enigmatic souvenir sign
what was once under the painting
the painting itself now gone
a museum where all the works
have vanished
leaving only the signs behind
sorrow upon awakening
holding the mind
still and quiet
barely breathing
watching for shapes within
the grainy shadows
the mists of the dream
dissipating with each dawning moment
of disappointment
in the failure of memory