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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