recollection

All I remember of you

is what was shadow

but not what was light.

And what was flesh,

but not what was smoke

I remember your kiss

but not your curse -

and the vague feeling

of gravity on the points

where you clung to me.

I remember your music and

your sweet, dark medicine.

I remember people in rooms,

conversations, voices

but not their faces.

And airplane journeys homewards

yet, no trips by train

I remember rain in the evening

but not clouds in the daylight

And a honeymoon,

a marriage, a downfall and divorce

but no wedding

I remember your shivering street

but not the house you lived in.

I remember so vividly

with a piercing, lucid vision

dreams, but never sleeping…

And your nakedness, burning

but never your clothes

I remember the climb

but I don't recall the hilltop

I remember knowing I'd hit

the bottom,

but I don't remember the fall.