Subheadlines

A collection of predestined poems that were meant to be collecting themselves just beneath the surface.

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5. Memory

I remember your voice’s creakiness on that woefully beautiful summer morning

Your grasp around me so rocklike I could hardly breathe

I remember the puddles behind your eyelids

How we shared our memories as if that storm of blissful moments

Would rage through our different pathways eternally

I remember how your sorrow stared through the mirror and saw my face

How a knife’s agony clutched the core of my everything

I remember your smile in that midnight hour months later

And it was like I never left

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