I will forget the blue jacket you wore when our lips met, tongues curious behind closed mouths. I will forget the way my pinky slipped between your middle and ring fingers as you took my whole palm. I will forget just as the blossom holding witness will shed its petals.
They will return, bound by the warmth of your ear kissing my neck while our hair tangles together. They will return, awakened by that passionate storm you pour as I uncork a bottle of neuroscience. They will return, just as the blossom that held witness grows its petals.
They will wilt, soured as a year leaves the three months we shared behind. It was my mistake.
I never got around to uploading this one. Circa July 2018