remember me

I remember you, the softball at the corner of your lips
Your scent is everywhere, lavender, and that touch of spice which eclipsed everything. I remember the way you coiled your tiny fingers around my blanket, leaning into.The crook of my neck. You hated the curtains, I explained they were ancient. I wanted to seem eccentric to you in some way, a Vicente worlds apparent from my island. We were ink on milk. I wanted you to remember our first conversation, the night was rough and the sky spat tears that day we stood at the bus stop. You asked for an umbrella, and I said " I like your jacket" but really I liked your eyes a huge of brown and blue , the sharpness of your nose, and the soft brush of pink moist lips. We walk in between the rows of silence sliding disjointed sentences in. Lavender, I miss your scent, if only I had spoken to you at all