The Art of Forgetting

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Ahh, I hate being sentimental...

Submitted: March 24, 2008

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Submitted: March 24, 2008

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Forget that you have your amnesia.
Forget that you lost everything but your face.
Forget that our distance bends us into
reclusion so far
As the tink of glass coming from your kitchen to this space.

Just remember the time
When you used to thumb
through my journal as you exclaim excrements
About things you never come to understand,
Like dog-eared pages on it you leafed through your hand.
You never understood my writing
As I never really understood you.

Or the time we spent splurging afternoons
in parks.
The traces of the sun's abandoning,
making silhouettes to the dark.
Remember the uncorked champagne,
the food we never ate,
the time we never really spent there
because you were busy with work,
And I was busy working how to cope up.

And now I want you to forget everything.
Forget anything at all.
For the minute you reclaim these thoughts,
The more we become far lesser people,
Far lesser persons than before.

Remember, there is always a sky for things we fail to keep.
In your head and mine, let us claim
The password for the understanding we seek:

That is to forget.


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