Do you forget? Or have etched into your proud skull, the moments of giddy bliss aboard my plane face, when I see camels on television or fuzzy polka dot socks on my feet? You haven’t seen my face for weeks, yet I talk to you everyday. Can we forget the prize of pain? Of what we look like in a castle of vulnerability? The way our conversations shape our faces, the way your eyes search mine for understandings while we sit on the size of couch that is perfect for our bodies. Intertwined. Do we remember how we made the other feel; our purpose in those moments, to lift each other up? Have we forgotten what we are like or forgotten what we were. I think we could, or would not, no matter the time tinkering around with the clock. We could or would not forget, because we don’t want to. And it is easy to see this, while dusk ends and travels of the mind begin.
