I memorized your smile
so I can find it every
time I close my eyes to dream.
The wrinkle of lip,
scar of dimple, crack of tooth.
They are with me still.
I memorized the angle of cheekbone,
every cut of skin stretched,
the soft roll of forehead.
I counted each crease embedded.
Every freckle and discoloration,
the squint of eyes and the way
they shine my reflection.
I know these parts in your absence.
I conjure them still
on the nights when my desire
to be a good woman is broken
by the solitude of my cavity;
on nights when I close my eyes,
and let you enter my mind.
Little girls are not supposed to fall in love
with little girls and despite self taught ambivalence,
your memory lingers. I find myself a scratch
on record, set to repeat. to repeat. to repeat. to repeat.
“Memory” is previously published in #TrueStory 2015.