Remembering sticks and memory misses

its mis-remembrance, so when you tell me this,

I say that I don’t remember that I did this,

you must have missed something,

I must have missed something.

 

This is what you said to me: you were sure that you knew me

one or two years before I knew you.

You spoke to me only because you remembered

a situation that didn’t exist yet,

you thought that you met me,

I knew that I hadn’t,

but the story still happened,

it made us both

something else.

 

I am a person

built up on reports of

this is what you did so

this is who you are,

I’m sure that it happened,

but you were so little,

you can’t have remembered,

you can’t have remembered - 

 

or even more recent,

you said this only

yesterday, and I know that

you have to remember,

why don’t you remember?

 

Somewhere along the line the needle skips,

perception shifts, slips, and I become the sum

of someone’s experience, not mine - 

this time -

 

and what might have never happened

is what I build myself on.

 

So maybe I have to accept

a double truth - 

you remember me how

you want to remember me,

this is how I am

to you.

I don’t need to change that.

 

I don’t want to change that.