Secret Drawers

One by one, I’m misplacing our memories,
ones I was certain I’d never lose.
The old ones, the mundane ones, tucked away,
sitting idle in the drawers of my brain
next to used batteries
and forgotten acquaintances’ names.
 

I search everywhere in my vacant house,
for some hidden conversation, perhaps
wedged between sofa cushions,
or flattened under the cutlery tray;
I search everywhere for any old souvenir,
any trace of a syllable left by you.
 

But every little piece I pick up,
every remnant I find nestled away
is old and withered, like a chip of cinder,
that disintegrates when touched; and
these ashes that mountain up at my feet
remind me of nothing.
 

So I leave you hidden, in your perfect form
tucked away in those secret drawers.
   

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/94t3tj/squinting/e3nz2lp/?context=0

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/94rjm1/bonded/e3o31z7/?context=0