Rosemary

There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember.

remember me
when you least
expect it

in the scent
of rosemary and
the red of eyelids
closed to the sun

and I will
remember you
scrawled
in cursive on
forearm in the
tender spot
where the sun
never reaches

isn’t that
what we all
want?

the best parts
of us to stay alive
in the hearts of
those we love

our words
remembered

hummed like
lullaby

tasted like
salvation

Advertisements