observation

they’re thought bubbles that form like clouds,

as quickly as they form they disappear with an exhale.

the color of the ceiling, the paintings on the wall,

his newly tanned skin & her coral-colored shirt;

if I don’t observe, 

don’t capture even the most insignificant details of the place where every moment is becoming a memory,

I’ll have no memory to look back on in 10 years.

i won’t remember the sound of their voices, what they were wearing, the restaurant’s smell, our silly conversations,

that day will be a fog, 

something out of a wonderful dream I can’t recall,

can only remember how it made me feel.

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