The sight of you is a dead nerve,
No longer a jolt,
An fiberoptic memory bleaching the rest of my day.
You are an observation now—a flicker, a moment.
Your name no longer rushes to the surface of my tongue. Sometimes I forget us all together.
But never the feeling when my forehead pressed against yours. Fingers laced together, a gate to the universe between us. Those exhales made a whole language, a truth AJ don’t doubt even now. That gold you gave me never dulls.