Forgetting Charm
Even your bones remember what you’ve long discarded.
This field of stone grows beyond sight.
In our house the tang of burnt sugars.
You say I love you in four languages I do not speak,
but never in the one I claim.
We light fires with stolen paper.
Douse them with stored rain.
Fragmented memories fill our cupboards.
Did I once know you?
Take these words from me.
Bury them in daylight.
* * *
“Forgetting Charm” was published in The Icarus Anthology in August 2017.
O at the Edges 
This is so nice.
LikeLike
Thanks very much!
LikeLike
Would you like to share your content on our website?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not at this time, but thank you for asking.
LikeLike
Great opening line. Good from start to finish
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is beautiful:
“You say I love you in four languages I do not speak,
but never in the one I claim.
We light fires with stolen paper.
Douse them with stored rain.”
Very nicely done, Robert.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Tre. Much appreciated.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re most welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This was beautiful. Thank you for keeping words alive.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re very generous, Annie. Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person