My memory seems faulty now
Like water slipping through clasped fingers
Not able to capture who you really are
But who I wanted
You
To be.

The smallest things make me
Remember.
A name that you wrote in a resume
Or the tennis racquet hidden in my closet
Or the pillow on my bed
Or some boy’s eyes, dark like yours

I never really had
You
So maybe I can’t voice this claim
But I find myself remembering
Which cupboard the glasses are in
Or the tattoo you’ll get after graduation
Things that don’t seem that intimate
But are.

I can’t complain
In earnest since
I knew
That this would happen, and i
[hoping against hope]
did it anyway
and my punishment is to be haunted by
you
day after day
after
day.