and i nodded as if i knew
trying to convince myself i hadn't already forgotten
or that maybe
some woman knows my grandmother better than me
the truth is
this woman
who i loved
love
had a life before me
and my life that followed perishes in comparison
there are so many things i will never know
the late night hawaiian language rehearsals
how her voices rounded itself around every syllable in the lords prayer
but i know how she held me with the tenor in her breath
how the cold volcano wind was her voices
pacing itself over my skin
in goosebumps
i remember these things
knowging that there will be nothing new to commit to memory
at least not from these eyes
but maybe tomorrow
someone else will tell me something special
something forgotten
that reminds me again
that granny isnt a memory
she was a living breathing goddess
who's arms stretched much farther than the small of my back
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