The Sin of Amnesia, #46

Slide down beside me, child
of creativity, kin
to kissing, heavy petting,
tempt me not with what you show
but with what’s underwraps, what
you keep. I cull memory
of a country road, was I
coming to you or leaving
home, was I crying, was I
dreaming. It was autumn, leaves
brushed aside as I sped by.
It was spring, there were blossoms
on the apple trees I spent
my life picking. The season
is not clear, nor the letter
I left unread, nor the books
left under my bed. I call
back your lipstick when I long
for something genuine, use
you to buoy me. I cull
memory of the ocean,
ankle deep, wading thigh high
to carry me. There were banks
of snow, and long warm evenings.
Forget this, forget me, slide
down here beside my body,
let me look at you briefly.
Say nothing more, my lover
is coming. My head echoes
with the face of it, your voice
gave me this headache. I can’t
get over you. It was night,
definitely night. No stars
poked through to meet me. Your eyes
looked out from the slit I keep
on the world. There were carhorns
and police sirens, hoodlums
on the corners, a city,
definitely a city
where I left you, where I go
back to. Recall that letter
I handed out as you left.
Did you read it? I forgot.
Must not have gave it over.
Apologies, I’ve misplaced
my memories. Forgive me.



A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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