I remember you like one
remembers old mixed tape tunes,
part melody, part lyrics,
and part sketch pen cover art.

I remember you as a
bedtime fable one cannot
recollect the morals of,
rolling off of an old book
with torn, moth-bitten pages.

I remember you as the
brittle brown bits of paper
in between fire and smoke
when your letters lay flaming,
warmed, burnt in the frosty night.

I remember you like a
trainwreck- a slow, vivid haze,
despite the dark longing to
not remember you at all.