Don't blame me, honey
If I don't keep no memory
Because there's dark concentric circles
'Round my eyes, of worry
The one time I am glee
Is when you with me;

Swivelling about our plum backs
To your music & mine
Tip-toeing on zig zag marble floors
Tugging to strums of guitar

Talking of places, far off
And their peoples
Colors, black blue red & grey

Talking still, entwined on the kitchen slab
Windows shut,
Breathing in unlocked airs of 
Summer winter and rain

Exchanging stories of our mothers
Names of our fading past lovers
Chopping tomatoes & potatoes
Spices & flavors

You're the condiment, baby
The one that adds flavor over me.

So, don't blame me 
If I complain amnesia
'Coz I am so busy living, suddenly. 
I ain't keeping no memory. 


Blasphemous Aesthete said...

I ain't taking no photographs either, it is liberating, it is the way it stays, till I forget, in my next does of aspirin.

Beautiful poem :-)

Blasphemous Aesthete

N!V said...

Wildflower - Are you reading my mind or what? These are my feelings, worded by you.

wildflower said...

May be, I am.