rem(ember).

and even though it hurts i can't help but remember
each time i spent slowly tracing your spine with my fingers and
leaving trail marks of kisses down the firm segments of muscle in your stomach and
down to a contrast, the softness between your hips
i remember every single time i
ran my hands through your hair, noticing with each graze how much longer
it was getting, and i remember the way you asked if you should
keep letting it grow or cut it off and i felt something hidden in the question,
like why i should stake any claim in you so almost-permanently
and i got goosebumps later thinking about it
i remember your eyes, in the mornings, at noon, and mostly at night
green underlacing gold, how i had seen them in my dreams
weeks before i even knew your name, your eyes,
glowing in the dark when we were fooling around on summer nights or
burning with anger when you preached about the american dream,
staring holes into the glass of your windshield and out past
into the night sky, so littered with stars (and i remember how i was yours, too)
and i remember your hands, constantly in motion,
shifting the gears in your mazda, sliding over my thigh, playing with your gauges,
holding up a finger to quiet me, or another pointing at things i should be
paying attention to-- which i always did just because you told me to
i'll remember your scent, musky but somehow spicy
like roses and cinnamon and something that always had me on the tips
of my toes, at attention
and your full lips, forming speeches that could incite riots,
wrapped around an ice cream cone, or swallowing lo mein noodles, or placing kisses like offerings on the altars of my breasts
your thighs, tensed and ready to pounce in your slender dark jeans,
and how i always wanted to bite them
and i'm always going to remember
the set of your jaw
how cute i thought you looked, your hair peeking out from under your $1 beanie
the layers of dust that made me see how much your cared in july
the first kiss, in my car at 2am at the cabin, surrounded by the night
our spot on your farm, and every hour spent kissing and confessing
that certain way you growlpurred when you said "come here"
the time you spent the night in the trunk of my car
how when i came to say goodmorning you were sweating and i felt so much desire
the way your throat curved, and the lovemarks i left
how you were the first person to ask how i liked to be touched
little questions: "what did you just spray?" "lovespell" "well it's working" or "where's my soulmate?" "standing right in front of you"
the first night we met, the way you looked at me like i couldn't be real
how you said your favorite texture would always be my skin
the way it felt to lay back in your leather seats and look up at the night sky with you next to me, your heat filling me
when you almost said "i love you" in walmart
how the world looked through the holes in your ears
the vast expanse of space between your shoulderblades
how you said my name delicately like it could break between your teeth
our midnight runs to taco bell and how you hated it when i paid
all the movies we saw: the hulk, american psycho, pulp fiction, pineapple express, etc.
the way my heart stopped when you talked about OUR kids
that day at the fair, when we didn't have money to ride rides, and i ate my first deep fried twinkie, and you laughed when i got powdered sugar everywhere
every parking lot we ever sat in, including the target parking lot, when it stormed
a thousand images, a thousand kisses, a thousand memories and promises and words and stars and a million things i'll never ever have again.
and i'm always going to remember how much it hurts to know.