I remember you

I.

I remember you.
You said you could not draw
And I said I could not write
But I can pen you now
With words
I never thought to say.

I remember you.
We lay beneath the sky
And cursed the stars for hiding
And they still make me think of you
When they laugh and when they twinkle.
It reminds me you’re not far.

I remember you.
I climbed into your skin
And hid inside
To trace your hands and trace your heart
The way tears felt against your cheek
And how the world looked through green eyes.

II.

I remember you.
Love snuck up on us like
Winter did when we were children.
I caught all your words in tissues
And you returned them to me
Wrapped in gold.

I remember you.
We broke our childhood threads
As we collided and
I kept our
Frozen feet and star-strewn limbs
On a Christmas chain so full of promise.

I remember you.
You were so happy there with me
And when you laughed you
Warmed the frozen air.
You built a trench filled up with wonder
And as we lay I watched you sleep.

III.

I remember you.
The flowers felt like styrofoam but
At least I could pretend,
And as they drank the water dry
I could not stop
The flow of change.

I remember you.
The rose you gave me died from cold
And you nagged me for a half-empty glass.
My lipstick’s on my coffee cup tonight:
A broken promise that you’ll be
The only thing to keep me up.

I remember you,
My second-nature love
And sometimes I can hear you whisper.
Pine trees in the darkness dance to your tune
And the empty riverbeds
Sing your name.