I do not remember the name of the flower I saw that day, but I swear its beauty resembled your face. Even though your smile had left me long ago, I still hold it deep within the wells of my chest, fostering your remaining embers into your warmth, for that’s all I have left of your embrace.
I do not recall the amount of freckles I saw on your cheeks that day, but I swear they were more plentiful than the stars. Each one glowed in the palm of my hands, trying so desperately to breathe in little bits of life. I can no longer recall how many there were, but at least I still have some part of you.
I do not remember the name of the person who spoke that day, but I swear it is their voice ringing inside my head. Their sweet chuckle resonates against my ribcage, reminding me to hold close to whatever you gave me. I can no longer remember your voice but your melody still remains.
Now your name is all I can remember because the stone records it for me. Those sweet engravings I’m sure resembled the beauty of your face. I’m blind when I don’t see it, deaf when your voice is forever mute. Now I fear the changing time will erase you from the tomb and when you do leave, I fear that you’ll take me with you.
I do not remember the name of the flower I gave you that day and no longer can I remember you.
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