Forgetfulness

I tell you I love you
and then I forget it.

I tell you I love you,
but I walk around sieve-brained
and my days sift out of me,
powdered sugar memories
clouding off in the wind
with every step I take.

Today with you happens,
like yesterday with you happened,
and today like yesterday
I try to collect all the sugar of you
in a brown paper bag
and lock it in a safe,
but I forget
the combination to the safe
and I never owned a safe
and I never had any brown paper
and all the precious things
I want to keep safe
fall out into the air.

I tell you I love you.

The air dusts sweet again.

I tell you I love you
and then I forget
the words ever left my lips

so every time
I forget I love you
I tell you again.

— Adam Kamerer

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