I can’t remember anything after I kissed you.

I don’t remember you.

But, I remember you in me.

You see, I save everything.

I’m a collector.

i know the human race.

i have rubbed them all over my body and yelled at them when they didn’t agree with me.

Of course they knew I knew you before I was born.

In a meadow.

By a hemlock.

And then, the years were torn away like pages in a calendar that was carved by ghosts on my tomb.

i was hidden under the floorboards and creaked over for years, until you mentioned my name and I turned and fell and cried.

That’s what I remember of love.


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