one three-day morning in Ohio,
still too young to be held
together, I desired that moment
be my eternity.
only years after,
did the blesing come,
reducing my mistakes in love
to powder.
I held a conversation with myself
before being informed that nothing
of that spate of days
existed, nothing had occurred,
I would be picked up at an airport
a legacy to fill in the gap with
a default of home,
and I would wander, perfectly
unwanted and apart from
any body, linger in the hope
that made no sense,
that something would adjust
what seemed to be my fate,
if as unreal as the man-made
lake outside the home
that I was in those nonexistent days,
alone with someone whom I cannot even
picture anymore, because
this beauty that informs
my present tense is dazzling,
shimmers from the glass
protecting and revealing me,
if anyone could care
the way I always care,
as I continue registering
for a class to teach me
to grow fluent in conversational
amnesia.
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