Overgrown.

"...Its just as we had thought- outlining horizons,hills and horses.

You'll love it here.

Love T."

I cant remember you, I'd say, when they'd ask of you.Defending your last essence within, defying constellations and catching questions bounce back at me.

What would you say to sympathize with a 19yr old girl that 

dreamt of horses, wished on rainbows and always had her hair 

adorned with Gardenias? 

Who lived for beauty, for religion and

for a ruffian who claimed to love her too.

You used to say you wished me to be happy, away with a man you believed could touch me in a way you never could or ever can. And I lived though Indian summers,seeing the world through the same prism as you. Nauseated by promiscuity, I travelled this redrush continuum, hoping that bidding my soul could help save yours. Estranged from everything I recalled as home, with disgust crawling up my neck, all I prayed for was a proof of your love to me that got blown away with rotting autumn leaves.

I stop as I unfold my memory.It longs to know you as it always did,on nights that resemble those but only in colour. But all they take me to is your laughter,trapped in a silver polaroid, sandwiched in your wallet, on a white Slovakian morning.

I cant remember you,I'd say when they'd ask of you. I hopelessly fail at each attempt.And I question my memory of a sailor that spoke Yiddish and wrote poetry.

All I remember are your kisses;that smelt of tobacco and tasted of the sea.And your touch that raised tornadoes form me to you back into me. I remember the marijuana and the smoke and the collecting of starfish on moonlit nights when neither of us spoke.

But I cant remember you.