I've realized that my poems
Are always so romanticized,
Always dancing around the idea
Of loving from afar

Today let me try to be
A little more straightforward.

I don't know what it is
About your demeanor
That has caused me to fixate
Over things that ended so long ago.

For someone who writes so much
About your beauty,
I don't even remember
What your face looks like
Anymore.

I can no longer recall
The way your hips
Would sway,
Only that they do
In a certain manner
That makes you, you

I've forgotten how your
Voice sounded that day
By the steps of the old basketball court
Back in boarding school

Or how you'd giggle
When I'd start a phone call
With just "Hey, beautiful."

Whether or not you read this,
What I do remember
Is how your hand clasped
Perfectly into mine
Not a forced fit,
Almost by design
And the way your singing voice
Loved to ring clear and true
Perhaps if I knew how to harmonize
I would've joined in too

Of all the things I don't remember
And to the few that I still do
Thanks for loving me as you did
...

... And Beautiful?
This one's for you.