What exists when you close your eyes?
I forget. Was she left-handed or right-handed? Did she put sugar in her coffee cup before she poured the coffee or after? I don’t remember. When I held her in my arms did she smile when I whispered, I love you?
I can’t remember. Maybe I fell into a story and couldn’t get out of fast enough to save myself. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe it was a wish. Maybe it never happened.
Were we in love? Were we together? Weren’t we? Did we? Didn’t we? I can’t remember. It had to be something, didn’t it? Wasn’t it? A wish? A dream? A story. A lie. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t and maybe it doesn’t matter and maybe it never did except in a certain aspect of twilight time that vanishes with daylight, that’s erased when I open my eyes and all I know is that I can’t remember a thing because I’ve left or she’s gone and we’re gone or never were. And I forget.