All I could remember
Was the skin around her waist
And the rose on her cheeks.

I had forgotten
The silk, chocolate hair falling from her shoulders as she leaned forward to whisper;
The ruddy, marbled skin that checkered her palms;
The sweetness on her breath;
The tightness of her legs;
The wide, stolen eyes that had not yet blinked at mine.

I had forgotten the blink;
The explosive, the gunner, the gnarly;
The loss and the red that colored it;
The full and the wrong.

I had long forgotten the empty.
The opaque, the tall, and the gray.
The deep, the full, and the thick.
The cold winters and cold Falls
That were far away just now.

The bricks and beams sitting quietly,
The sweetness on the air,
I can remember now.

I can remember now the warm summers, the thin, the light;
The tickle of my hair grazing my shoulders as I lean forward to whisper;
The parchment hands and freckles on my knuckles;
The heavy, wet breeze painting my cheek;
The first smile and all the others that took its place;
The tightness of my own gut;
The lightness of my own heart.

And I will forget, as has always been done.
But when I can, I will try.
I will try:

All I could remember
Was the skin around her waist
And the rose on her cheeks.