I Have Now Forgotten Nearly Every Smile

I have now forgotten nearly every smile. How I used to brush your hair with my cheek. Let one index finger glide over your porcelain shoulder As if it were tracing a line of ancient amber, As if it was entering a pot of wildflower honeydew. I have since forgotten how we walked in step with one another. We laughed together and finished each other's sentences. How sometimes I'd pinch myself and metaphorically Dream we were soul mates forever. I have now, like any old oak tree, Put rings around the past and thick, dense bark on top. Trailing in the subsoil a piece of razor-sharp, bard wire. But I still recall the love heart we carved in an altogether different tree and initiated. It's all healed over now, but in truth; it is also still somewhat visibly healing scared. As if it was tenderly cut just yesterday.