things you don’t forget

there are so many husbands and wives
in this city,
i wonder if they ever sleep alone.

it seems that my life is incomplete
   without a woman. my body-soul
tells me so.

but would i remember how to kiss?
   how to make talk with her, to
sleep & dream?

& what does a naked woman look
   like? i can’t
remember.

there’s a lot to learn at the
   news stand, but what does
all that have to do
   with me?

i hope my mommy bore a son
   with a heart, the good &
tender kind–– whispering &
   longing about forever.

a heart that wanders down
   fifth avenue crying
“love me. let me love you.
   love me.”

that peers through my eyes
   at the lonely girl
sitting on the subway.

& you, my dear, why can’t
   you see me? & where
does all this rejection
   come from?

why can’t i/you find
   you/me? & why all this
bickering when we need to be
   doing just the opposite?

the sun is flowing down
   towards the horizon &
we’ll never run fast enough
   to catch the light.

our bodies are aging, our
   hearts dissolving into time.

melting soap in
   milky water.