i hope that i flash through your memories,
and you remember my pale skin,
soft like butterfly wings; fragile like glass,
and you remember
the simple curves of my body,
lying beside your side,
on the opposite edge of the bed
listening to the early morning doves.

i wonder if a memory floats through,
and you remember the way my
eyelids fluttered in the warm sun rays,
covered by cold sheets,
protected by warm hands and strong arms.

should you remember the way
the newfound promise ring,
fits upon my skinny finger,
and i hope the wrinkles that
surround the silver,
bring you back to this day,

when we were young.