Diamond

i can not remember
anything, except the crease in her head
where the hair fell to either side
it is all i need to
be unable to forget
about her,
the first thing i noticed,
turning it over
like carving a diamond, checking
each angle, a hand on my thigh or
upper arm, i

cannot recall what you look like
i cannot recall looking at you
only what was around me
only these things that pass us by:
you ordered a drink that was red,
it was too sweet, i said words
i cannot remember your voice
you laughed but did you really,
i spoke to you but what did i say
i played out what i wanted
to do with you in my mind
i cannot forget it
i remember the bathroom was
down the hall
my umbrella was tag number 16

in the
faces of each person that passes me,
i ask myself,
would i know if she
was her, and
will seeing her again
be like the first time
i see anyone i ever end up
caring about, even for selfish reasons
and will i see her again

why do i struggle to remember even
the smallest thing, you were wearing
a necklace, it was a shape
i remember feeling your shirt, over
your waist, on the left,
under my right hand, but have
no idea what it looked like now,
or if it was two shirts,
or if you were wearing shoes,
or your mouth
even though you probably spent time
making yourself look how you did

she is an obsession, i know only
her name, insignificant details
the height of the walls
we have each erected
my hand in my pocket or
hers in mine
it is a drug, i am alone

i have no pictures,
our temporary encounter has
passed me by, i cannot forget
what i cannot remember
somehow, this nothing
i have

i hear myself in a recording
unsure if it’s me, or
in a photograph, i am this
reflection, unrecognizable
a person i cannot remember, a
diamond, turned over,
cut from different angles
glowing under the light.
wherever it might
be coming from