Fade, Memory

If someone asked me to write a story about something that happened to me one month ago, I’d stare at the blank page and come up with nothing. If they said, how about last week? I’d look at the page and write: ate food, went to bathroom (probably). If they said, how about yesterday? I’d go back and write: ate food, went to bathroom (definitely). If they said, how about one minute ago? I’d turn to the page and wipe away the drool.

Love, with morning breath

We didn’t say ‘I love you’ last night
we didn’t fight (even though you forgot to put the cap back on the toothpaste), just forgot to speak the words
we went to bed quietly slipping into dreams
the next morning I leaned over
and smelled your beshirted shoulder it smelled like you
like a constant memory
how could I not love that this you us life?