Till Death or Forgetting

Found this in a notepad from a while ago I guess. Sad.

Familiarity breeds forgetting.
Misting memories
rusted recollection
of the once cosmic forces that
bring us together
to gather our rosebuds while we may.
Why will that bold certainty
not stay?
Not linger in the air
like the smell of you
on a pillow
like the tingling taste
of your kiss.

You. Whoever you are.
Remind me.
Any of you.
What brought us to this?
What captured me.
What bait you used
to snare me in your
nets.

Granted, I am an easily
caught, stupid creature.
Ambling aimlessly, unwittingly
(witless) into trap after trap.
It is as though I like it there.

Maybe it was your eyes
your hair
your quiet mystery
your noise and faith
who knows.
But please someone remind
me.
For I am forgetting
And in forgetting you (all)
I forget myself.

I don’t want to be a “bird”.
“A dame” “A ball and chain”
Something in it stifles me.
I miss the churning desire
the torment in your eyes
the missing you
the wishing you would notice
the wondering where you were
when you went from me
the draw – inescapable
of beginnings.

But things cannot go
on
beginning.
And so my memories
are dimming.

 

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