If you were dead,
I'd forget you after a while.
The way you moved, the words
you liked to use, your sneeze,
your smile.
I definitely wouldn't
remember all your best stories and
dreams, the foods and feelings you
loved, the lessons you tried sharing
with me.
Because I never got those
the first time around—and once
you were gone, that's all lost
in your lightless head.
Of course, you can
always keep trying—
slow as I am,
still
I'll listen
if you
tell me.
It may
take some
time;
good thing
you're not
dead.
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