Remember, you and I. The entire length of our love on the floor. Three fingers, on the right hand only.
I have worn your skin. Eaten the language from your mouth. What will your hands do with me when they are done?
Will they fold my tender flesh into your memory’s blanket a hundred times in half?
Will they gather promises that begin with “remember,” and pack them beside phrases about the past?
Michelle Lim is a poet and an aspiring novelist. She has a novel forthcoming, and one day hopes to open her own independent publishing house. When she’s not frightening strangers with her enthusiasm for Lumberjanes and Broad City, she’s most likely frightening her fiancé and their growing collection of dead plants.