things not forgotten

  
 

I forget not the timbre of your voice
     soft at first
then raised, spiraling around my words
   only higher, still
       to return
as mist and sighs

I forget not the first glimpse,
   deceptively unblemished skin
      hiding the promise
   of sweetness

I forget not the way you look
      supine, or sublime
angered indifference
    at war
with beggared desire

No, I forget many things.

But you are not one of them.