deepundergroundpoetry.com

human memory is fleeting

I stole a pair of your underwear three years ago
as an excuse for having to see you again but it only
made me wonder why we say “pair” of underwear
when there’s only one, or how full moons always remind
my father of the swollen belly of a pregnant mother,
red and ripe and distended with veins. That first night
together I kissed you hard because it was the only
way I learned to do things: to turn human beings
into crash test cars and run them into trees,
or don’t do anything at all. This is the way we learned,
shedding sleep from our new bodies like snakeskin,
and your thighs opened so readily for me
I was almost surprised there wasn’t a lever and pulley
behind them moving you like a marionette
attached to strings. Now whenever I see a kite
I’m reminded of the way you put your fingers into
my mouth, dizzily, searching, like something
climbing into the sky from miles of earth below.
Science has determined that human short-term memory
can only process up to three items at a time
so I stole two more pairs of your underwear
to make it an even three. Normally I make a conscious
effort to try and remember people; for you I made
an exception. I put them in the back of the drawer
where I only have to see them if I open it,
and I’m not the sort of person
who likes pulling things apart.
Written by malveillant (Ana)
Published
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