Remembering

 

        It’s not completely true that it was all forgotten.

 

        She remembers your touch

        He remembers your voice

        She remembers the sweet Novembers

        He remembers the silent rain

        She remembers the alien scents

        He remembers the butterflies

        She remembers the little gifts

        He remembers the big red letter days that belong to him once

        She remembers the quiet joy

        He remembers the laughter

 

        But they don’t remember the promised

        f.o.r.e.v.e.r.

        Would it still count if they did

        Only, it’s a little late?