and when i've left
does the grass
recall how i felt
and do the ordinary
accidentally remember me?
the sun mixing in
like watercolor
is singing a familiar song.
somewhere
beside lavender flowers
i've lived a little life.
the wine
is bitter
and i've let go
of the idea of you,
but do you think
the sidewalk remembers
the flask of tea
and the non-conversation?
do you think
you are important to me
in a different world
and i make you happy?
the flowers are wilting
and the outside
scares me.
however,
life is magic —
the tea is still here
and i think
the ordinary
accidentally remembers me.