Sunday 

I wonder if she knows 

how much you love staying up all night 

and watching the sun rise. 

I wonder if she knows 

about all the bad days you have 

and how you like your eggs. 

Does she know about that night 

you kissed me to your favourite song? 

Lord knows my mind hasn’t shut up about that. 

I wonder if she likes the freckles on your nose 

and the way you always smell like Armani Code. 

But most of all I wonder how she tastes 

because ever since I’ve had yours lips on mine,

he tastes like a mistake. 

Routine

One of those nights where you can’t seem to fall asleep so you think about all the relationships you’ve watched fail and the last time you ate something simple that made you wish you were 7 again. You think about the last person you slept with and how they took a part of you with them. You masturbate to the thought of the last boy that smiled at you and you finally find yourself getting drowsy. 

Sunday

Today I couldn’t remember what I ate for dinner last night. It’s funny how that works. Sometimes we can’t remember things we want to and others, we can’t forget if we tried. I have all these unnecessary details about you stuck in my head. I don’t think about it a lot but sometimes it comes over me. Like the urge a dog has to chase a car. 

Loose Change

Today while I looked for some loose change in my wallet, I came across a picture of you.

You had a little smile and some of my lipstick on your face.

After a while of staring at the picture, I realised, I’d almost forgotten about that day.

Some of it came to mind.

Bits of conversations, Mexican food and piggy back rides.

A few weeks after we fell apart; I remembered it so well I could almost feel your lips on mine again.

The way your tee shirt felt and your hands.

My God, those hands.

But now, it was fading.

I couldn’t even recall our last kiss.

Maybe because I wasn’t aware that it would be our last.

Soon, I won’t even remember the colour of your tee shirt or what cologne you had on just like you won’t remember the song we danced to or any of my birthmarks.