the first five days i remembered the door you kissed me on.
i remembered your favorite songs, your favorite foods, and i remembered the rain.
the first five days i remembered the glasses perched on your nose and i remembered the taste of your lips after you had drank a bottle of wine.
how sweet they tasted.
sweeter than the drawl of your words and the fingertips that traced the lines of ink on my arm.
the first five days i remembered our promised plans that we made.
the trips we hadn’t taken and the movies we hadn’t watched.
i remembered how it felt to hear you say the words ‘i’ and ‘adore’ and ‘you’ all in the same sentence.
i remembered how it felt when i left.
i remembered why i left.

on the sixth day i remembered that the door you kissed me on was just a door before i left
and would continue to be a door after.