Memory

Remember when my nerves
killed the roses and I ate only prayers
until you called.

“The sun”, you said “would always
come out again” but at the end
of the day I knew it would give up its fight
and surrender to the earth. I knew but
I never told you.

Remember when I bought your lust with love
And we sat naked outside of your window
Gravel sticking to my thigh, my thigh sticking
to you.

I lost everything off of that roof
dropped into the field, eaten by coyotes.

Remember when your life support hands
would sit on my knees and I really
had no idea,
I would miss you one day

Or that missing you would feel like
I couldn’t breathe

I couldn’t

Remember how I was crying again while painting
And tears stung the skin around my eyes like mosquitoes
you told me to look at you but “I can’t, I said,
“I have been drinking since noon”
You sat there quietly for the next four hours, waiting for me to talk

And when I did, I smiled and I asked you where you’d been.

Remember

Well one day I was sitting in a bath reading when I
decided I had loved you too long, then I forgave myself
for doing so.

I lifted my wine glass in the air and whispered “salud”

And on another day I realized I had not cried
in a very very long time, cept when I saw that old lady’s
thin hands on the muni, because they
like her were so very beautiful
so I rented some of those heart-wrenching movies
to ignite a response and ended up laughing
at myself for my inability to cry.

I used to hope to run into you so you could see how well I
was doing. I wanted to show you I wasn’t afraid that I wouldn’t crumble
at the sight of you but instead of you I ran into unapologetic groping
by a strange man wearing a wife beater in the middle of winter
I reacted like I had a razor hidden in my hair and he left running
I realized I wasn’t’ afraid I would crumble in front of you or anyone else
Now I know seeing you would only remind me of far I fell
and Id’ rather not be reminded
my memory is good enough