Memories II

It's funny that I can't remember your face.
You, you that had been the object
of my love, of my hatred, fear,
faceless, in my mind.

I only have faint memory of how
you look, how you dance,
how you talk.

Even your voice sounds faint
when I try to recall it, I am
unsure of its tone
and its pitch.

I tried to remember your eyes, how
they look, how they catch my own
eyes looking at you, how my days are
made more blissful just by looking
at them.

I do remember, after all.

Now your voice came back to my mind.
Now I remember,
how you laugh, how you talk, how you sing,
how you make me smile just by uttering
a word, or making a sound,
how you complete me even by your silence,
which makes me miss your voice
even more.

And then your image comes back to me.
I begin to remember the contours
of your face which I dreamed to touch,
your tired-looking eyes, your full
lips, your forehead, half-covered by your
pitch-black hair, your inviting eyelids, your
stabbing smile and indifferent stare.

And then finally,

I began to remember I
love you.

- James Miraflor (02.__.06)