i said taste
never seemed so alive
as the smell of the ocean,
or the feeling of a tiny, warm hand
on my face.
it could never be as vibrant
as each crystal note that i breathed in
and tried my best to exhale
into joyful noise,
never as beautiful as the sight of a bright gold sky
trickling over trees and through the cracks
of the roof.
i can’t remember what anything looked like,
all of the words have started to die away,
and i’m beginning to forget
even what it felt like.
as even the smell is fading, only
one thing remains intact- I can still
the many flavors
throughout my day, and my lips at least
can still remember the sun
(which is all that really matters-
it’s risen again every morning)
warming them around the edges.