I Forgot to Forget You

The neuroscientists say
memories are like footprints
in wet cement —
each time we visit them,
we leave new marks
on the original impression.

But I forgot to forget you
in the prescribed manner:
gradually, then suddenly,
like normal people do.

Instead, you persist
in high-definition recall:
the exact shade of blue
your eyes turned at twilight,
the precise pitch of your laugh
on that Tuesday in March,
the specific gravity
of your hand in mine.

My hippocampus refuses
to corrupt these files,
keeps backing them up
against my will,
storing copies of you
in every available synapse.

The deletion process failed:
ERROR 404:
Forgetting not found
ERROR 503:
Memory service unavailable
ERROR 525:
Time has not healed
as expected