Remember the day you stopped saying


Remember when your friend sped down the hill,

willing you to follow?

Remember when that kiss became a date,

when the date became two years

of stories and tales and lines until we remembered

who we were and where we wanted to be –

because we didn’t know where we were going.

So we just remembered,

and remembered, until memories soaked up our souls

like a wet sponge and doused dirty drops

onto each dimple of skin.

Remember how you held me there?

You took my hand along the shore for the first time

and we ran, laughed like children, knowing some day

we’d remember.

September 13, 2013


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