I Forgot About That

I forgot that I loved that.

I forgot about the eyes that are dark as the soil;

About the curled hair and thick thighs and gold herbal oil.

I forgot that my hair didn't look nice without you here; forgot I didn't know how to make a bun like you'd make when we were the musketeers.

I forgot about the laughs and the cries and the shouts; forgot the pain and the loneliness and my crippling doubt.

I forgot how it felt when you lay on my bed; forgot the knotty hair and the sheets and the way we knocked heads.

I forgot about the mirror that we got from Ethal Hall; forgot the candle and the promises and the way I left it all.

I forgot I loved it when you told me I was pretty; forgot the way you me feel, the way we told the truth and were childish and giddy.

I forgot the way you smiled at all our silent jokes; forgot how mean we were, how nice were, how we treated folks.

I forgot how I missed you; how I wanted you with me. I even forgot the way disagreed on parsley or rosemary.

I forgot the leeks and the ramen and the minty spiced tea. I forgot the 53 states and the paintings and the Three;

I forgot the wolf pack and voting and wrestling meets. The moment I looked in your eyes and saw my other half, yeah I even forgot the ring in my purse and the silent laughs.

But the worst part is that I forgot to forget; all of this on my mind as you turned 19 last night;

I did forget to say that although you're my wife,

You're my best friend and my soulmate and I'm glad you're in my life.