it was pouring this morning in phoenix,
but I am not thinking about desert winters.
instead, I am thinking of chocolate eyes,
silver-lining on evening storm clouds that cross the horizon
like restless wolves,
friendship bracelets I've collected through the years,
broken promises,
whether a kiss from the golden-haired boy
would taste like strawberries
if I could ever learn to love him,
and how it is that january skies could be so similar
to chilly march mornings in cambridge.
mostly,
I am thinking about how change
might be good.

did you know
that every time you recall your favorite memory,
you are rewriting it?
it makes me wonder how long it would take
before those revisions become something
entirely new
and which details we choose to cling to,
memorizing those patchwork pieces
until everything else is forgotten.
it is funny how these very same memories
are our most cherished lies.

perhaps someone is rewriting me right now,
desperately grabbing onto past conversations
and the way the sentences caught in my throat,
as if I were fighting to breathe.
maybe we are both thinking about how change
might be good.

answer me honestly:
do we miss the people that have left us,
or are we just trying to disguise the places
where they made us empty?
in our minds.
in our memories.
are we hoping,
that by remembering,
we will again be able to taste that first moment,
before we rewrote it a hundred different times?
I don't know.
I am searching for the details that escaped me, too.
in an effort to stop them from leaving,
I have forgotten that doing so
still requires a step forward.

yes, change might be good.
that is what I am thinking
as I let the january skies
pass me by.