forget his impulsive tongue and forget
              his hands, powered by
                   his forearms, stitched through with veins, inflated by
                      his fascination of you.

forget how ephemeral that fascination was and forget
            how his face flickered across your dreams like a faltering mirage and forget
               how your most vulnerable parts cringed at his memory and don't bother remembering
                  how you were to him
                      what they all were to you