RememberingMy memory is going
but that’s why I need your tactile, your touch.
I need the calluses of your hand
to mesh with me, mold with me
so I can be that frozen face in the snow
gently tendered, discovered, found.
I need the pri cks of your goose bumps
to pull me closer
and closer until the words us and we
are one letter long.
I need the blanket of your hair
woven in my fingers
knitting us together.
My memory is going
help me remember.