for a moment i couldn’t remember your last name.
for a moment it started with a different letter,
was spoken in a different tongue.
for a moment i had forgotten it — that is, if i ever knew it at all.

you used to be so clear to me.
you were, at a time, tangible —
so much more than a memory.
i loved you then and i could say that i love you now but
you cannot love a memory.
not in the same way, no.
you cannot talk to a memory,
nor laugh with a memory,
nor live with a memory.

and so i keep you
frozen in time,
a fragment of the past.

like ashes in an urn i put you on the shelf,
never to be disturbed,
only to be put on display.
i thought you’d be safe there.
i thought that the ashes in an urn don’t disappear because
what more can ash crumble down to?

but today,
for just a moment,
i couldn’t remember your last name.
today,
for just a moment,
you slipped away.

and now i wonder if i ever had you at all.

(a.m.)

i.
hearing your name still fills me with a certain intoxicating sweetness.

ii.
i hate you. god, i hate you so much. but i love you. please come back.

iii.
i'm sorry that it had to end up like this. i don't think you care, though.

iv.
it's okay if you've lost your innocence. i've lost mine, too. life will do that to people.

v.
i was often happiest when you said my name like maybe i meant something to you.

vi.
i am stuck between wanting to forget you and wanting to crawl back to you.

vii.
most of my poems are still about you, even now.

viii.
i hope you're doing okay.

ix.
please don't forget me.

x.**
thank you.

Suddenly you transformed
Into a broken mirror.
All of the ugly, fragmented shards
Of my soul
Staring right back at me.

six years and counting
my words forever inside a screen
and it means a lot when someone reads my past
a person I used to know
I've changed, I'm not the same
even so
my heart sparkles when I see her
I'll try and meet her someday, somewhere
just to say- you did well

You became
A distant memory,
Nothing left of you
But a story for the moon

hardwoods reduced to naked indignation -                                        
blackbirds voice their mathematical equations
field smoke bound for the dusken diamonds of autumn ..
dove mourn the close of day ..
the crackling corn ..
Septembers hay ..
a locomotive bound for Montgomery ..
ash enroute to the moon ..

They say as the wind blows,
so too will a certain love be true .
In unordinary ways, you will find
yourself in awe of their shape.
Just let yourself wander through
the fields of limitless wonder.
Until you at last reach a point of
no return or impatience.
You will see a love in the shade of
purple floating through your heart.

The colors
dance in waves
across the darkening sky;
a beautiful calm before the storm.
The kind of calm
the world only experiences
in the early hours of the morning
when everyone is asleep
before the weight of everything
comes crashing down on it.