Day 1: Memory

i remember this feeling
the way air starts to take shape
the way
distance
starts to feel
more and more like
space
and far far far away
the way your body
is less and less of memory
more fable
and tale
things iʻve read of before
but cant quite put to tongue

i remember the way it all
can fall to the floor and shatter
how fragile this kind of love can be
and how this
if memory serves
any indication
will be the first of many
poems written to mornings awoken
uncertain

i know these feelings
and the song absence sings

i know your body
and the way it releases me
how the days will pile without our voices bouncing off of each other
how we are made
a symphony of silence
a john cage parade of nothing

tomorrow might be better
but it will not eclipse
the feeling of being struck
by our imperfection
and the way memory seems to pose itself
a warning
a guide against repeat offenses
tomorrow i might not want to crawl into my skin and cry myself back into ocean
but that will not remove
the memory of tonight
and my shell
far too tight for my body to hide
it will not reclaim the memory
of my bones curling into themselves
of my heart
playing small
in fear
of you