Mine...

Where do these words come from, the words that I write?

They come from my memory

But isn’t my memory yours?

Doesn’t it come from the words you said?

You, you and you?

Him, her and them?

Then... what is truly mine and what is yours?

The ideas in my mind, which fall onto a screen... aren’t they some mangled form of the words I’ve heard ,or read perhaps, issuing from you?

A hundred voices echo in a sentence of mine...

Mine?