Moving with Memories

Oh, but darling
How did we get here?
I am in the post-love phase,
afraid
to call because I wouldn’t be able to hang up.

I shed your ghostly presence
Wondering which parts of myself
I lose in the process.

Remember that time in the car, at
Lookout Point?
Remember the birdshit on your shirt?
Remember the stuffed peppers?
Remember me? I try to.

/michal

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