i didn’t know you had a photographic memory, so you told me my tattoos. i had to check on some, and you only missed a few.

i do not share your talent, so i asked for photographs. In the dragging weeks of absence they remind me of your laugh.

i have revisited small moments. i now study certain scenes. In the dark room of my mind i develop what i need.

Remembrance savored thusly serves to calm my eager pace. Each sweet memory slow-rendered becomes clearer as i wait.

Perhaps recollection should be kept so: developed deliberately; coming gently clearer instead of brash immediacy.

The true reality between us i now catalogue inside. i trust everything we are as it is archived in my mind.

If this is what i’m left with, if you disappear from sight, i’m glad i built this dark room to bring impressions toward full light.

For what is beauty if not fleeting. What wants the photo if not greed. i will not ask to keep you just as you cannot ask me.

But wait i do and eager still, i’ll study every scene. i am not scared or worried, i just want you here with me.