[remembering to forget you]

it's like...glancing at your wrist
and remembering you left your watch
at home

[you think a path in through the doorway
to find it sitting
[right]
where you left it,
on the table with your keys]

it's like...stepping through a door
and discovering it's a window
up three stories from the ground

[you lose the ground and fall
face first
belly in your throat
and then you hit the street]

and for awhile, it's like that;
i keep forgetting to forget you-

the way you kissed my neck or
ran your fingers through my hair

at the deli buying groceries i
glance down at all the icing
and see your name
[in all its sweetness]
scrawled across a cake

sitting in the campfire light
someone strums a C and i
remember how we kissed and laced
our fingers in the backseat

but sometime soon, i think,
i'll remember to forget the way
your hands felt on my face;
i'll remember that watches can't
really capture time

and i'll remember to forget you