I Want To Remember
I never want to forget my mother and I on the porch at night, laughing and talking, the scent of her cigarette on the wind, the lights of the stars trembling in blackness. The feeling of a full, warm, solid life. Our laughter cuts the silence apart, our voices spread into the night, the concrete porch is cool under my bare feet. I want all that my skin can hold, all that a life can be. I want to know that I touched love. I want to remember it. Only the memories are left. Memories on top of one another, strata of time and beauty. Maybe I'm always digging back. Maybe life is archaeology in the end and we keep excavating our pasts for the bright, glittering shards, the ruins that mark our place. This is what I had, I'll say to myself after it is gone.