By Joy Anderson
I like to sit with your memory
legs tangled
fingers soft
Or lie against its chest,
breath low
spoken nothings slipping through the air
Or hold its hand across a table
curious eyes
whispers and honest dreams
I don’t imagine what you’d do now
how we would have changed by now
how we would have grown and deepened
heated and strengthened
because your memory isn’t you
I know that
But as you go on
I sit with your memory
like it’s a gently rocking boat
restful on the water
in the cooling evening air
I lie there
let my tired body relax
take slow, easy breaths
and learn to look forwards
Joy Andersen is a creative mess and tired chef living in Cambridge, UK. More of her poetry is published or forthcoming with Boats Against the Current, Words & Whispers Magazine, and South Asian Press. See more on her linktree (linktr.ee/jyndrsn).
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