You know this:
the moon doesn’t mean as much
pears don’t taste as sweet
hurts don’t feel so good
as when you’re with me
But all those things
take me to you
as if all these
walks, bus rides,
bike rides, and drives
were little pathways
to those trails of yours that wait for me.
Then,
more and more you stop loving me
I stop loving you
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you feel it deeply and furiously,
rain pushing through your hair
passing through my life
and you choosing
to leave me in this peak
in the mind where I have roots,
remember
in that second,
at that moment
I’ll raise up my hands
and my roots will sprout out
to find another mountaintop.
But
if every second,
every instance,
you remember who you are
you feel destiny
me
If every day
your garden grows taller
and a tomato kisses your lips
think of me
oh my love, oh my own,
in me there is no extinguisher
I crave your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
(In honor of Neruda’s poem, “If You Forget Me”)
Adam F.C. Fletcher 