Reminiscent

                By Annie Pham

 

I donít remember you Ė

I seriously donít.

 

I canít remember the hundreds of thousands of times,

                I watched as you scribbled away,

                                                doodling,

                                                                carving,

                                on the surface of the desk.

 

I canít recall the undeniably cute expression of concentration

displayed on your perfectly shaped face.

 

I donít remember, the way you turned to me, asking,

                ďHowís it look?Ē

In that breath-snatching gorgeous voice of yours.

 

                I canít recall adoring the sound of your voice,

                                While others teased you about it;

                Even teachers amused at the fact of you going through puberty.

 

Nor do I remember the way I constantly gawked at you.

               

Memorizing the shape of your face,

                the softness that mustíve coincided with the peachy texture of your skin,

                the curve of your honey-glazed lips.

                that easily brings Adonis to shame.

 

Nope,

                I donítÖI canít even recall being lost in the depths of your almond-shaped eyes,

                                those chestnut orbs,

                                                so warm and brown.

 

No, I canít remember the restless nights, I spent staring up at the ceiling, wondering about

                that passionate,

                                gentle,

                                        soul,

                That I believe is hidden beneath those alluring orbs of yours.

 

Honestly, I donít even recall ever gossiping about you with my pals.

 

                Nor believing that you are my one and only.

 

No, I canít remember calling myself, Mrs. ***** *********.

 

                No, I donít remember you,

                                Not at all

                Not one bit.