The story of that unremembered girl
\nthat used blue to color her sky,
\nwas the love of my life when I was six.
\nTo tell the story of my life
\nmust be in poetry,
\nand the truth of me will be in that,
\nfor no memory stays
\nwhere it\u2019s supposed to stay.
\nI find myself in drawers,
\nin rooms, on the pages
\nof old grocery slips,
\nand from that
\nI find the mysterious,
\na puzzle waiting to be reassembled
\nwith edges.<\/p>\n
The past is an inflated balloon,
\ngrowing bigger than a planet,
\nas big as a star,
\na nova ready to explode.
\nBut the girl whose name I can\u2019t remember,
\nI can smell,
\nI can see a smile,
\nI can see tiny hands
\nas smooth as little sculptures
\nof ivory.
\nI touch now,
\nand wish I had touched then,
\nas they held a blue crayon,
\nto color the rafters of the world.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The story of that unremembered girl that used blue to color her sky, was the love of my life when I was six. To tell…<\/p>\n