They have memory
so the creases

from where I wipe
my eyes my face

still linger
and they’re two weeks old

now ripe
with a ***** whiff of must

the colors
red and yellow are mismatched

and
if I really tried

I could make them hang straight
but I lost you once before

and I vowed
never again because it’s myself

I have to save first before
I can rescue you

Whit Howland © 2019