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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Romance/Love · #2215888
The body remembers.
My memories are weakened
by years of dulling herbs,
but my body remembers.

I got one pinky that's crooked,
an indent on my right leg,
a white blemish on my foot,
and some healed cuts and burns.

My right hand has less hairs,
my knees hurt when it's to rain,
my bones are scratched in places.

I remember running up the stairs
trying to ring a doorbell
just a bit out of reach.

I remember spider eyes
in the darkness under a bed.

I also remember the water
coming out of my lungs.

Memories, good or bad,
at least some remain
in or upon this body of mine.

What will I do if I ever forget
the time that I kissed you?
Will my body remember?
Or will it just die?
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