Do you remember the poetry?
The way lines would shudder and curve under
my fingertips
Dancing from the tip, the beauty
I remember drawing with words
I remember the sunny afternoons
But
I remember the rainy mornings, too
Do you remember the poetry?
The rain, the misery of the world would tap on the panes
But you would never let them in
You wanted me all to yourself – your sunshine
The pages and pages and pages
I don't think you remember that poetry
Because you never
Saw it.
But the poetry in my eyes, the poetry in my wrinkles in my hands
At age 16, I had old lady hands
At age 16, I found love
You remember that poetry?
The poetry at the nape of your neck,
That your mother always reminded you to clean
The secrets your friends would give to you
That you would whisper to me, and it would
Get caught
In the little hairs along my forehead
That's the poetry you loved