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.