I tried to write them down;
all the moments she made me feel flooded with love.
I quickly began dropping moments.
Watched them hit the tiling and panicked,
as my shaking hands let slip the first time she said “I think I love her”,
the first time she opened her sleepy eyes and smiled,
the first time she asked me to stay close because I made her feel safe. Stable. Strong.
And I bit my tongue and pierced it with the jumble of words in my mouth
about how she was my centre of gravity.
These moments fell from my arms
and I winced to know that if I didn’t stop to pick them up I might lose them forever. That was scary.
But see, when you love the right girl
every second is worth saving
and I’m running out of memory.
Running out of time to write them down
because the spaces between the last time she made me feel like she wrote the earth for me,
and the next time,
is too small for poetry.

There are no spaces in between love, to memorialise love.

But don’t worry.
I don’t need to try to remember how she made me feel on May 8th 2017.
Or April 20th, same year. Or yesterday.
She’ll remind me.
And I’ll always have a million more today’s and tomorrow’s left
for her to burn the eternal truth of us into me.

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