Brightly as before.

There's a box in the back of my head,

A place where I shamelessly chuck in all

my past embarrassments and nonplussed disgrace;

just so that I can dupe myself into believing that

humiliations I once experienced are utterly invalid.

But on very very rare occasions,

I'll find myself with a gigantic ice-cream dipper

thrust deep into the box,

tenaciously scooping up a heaped spoonful of memories.

Before anything else I'll tearfully laugh at

the recollection I gather,
then I'll wince in blatant bewilderment, and then
finally I'll stupendously regret the way I had acted way back then.

A rabbit. That's the first thing I always remember.

Sweetly, and brightly as before.