You slipped through my fingers
before I remembered
to want to hold on.
And we have fallen so far back
that we made a circle–
six,
nine,
eleven,
thirteen–
then a fog blurs your face
and time distorts you.
How long does it take for a memory to grow
so far
that you can no longer see it?
People say trees hold memories
and I stare into the branches,
searching for a mark
that we never made.
To believe you will never be forgotten
is to leave nothing behind.
The tree hasn’t grown,
hasn’t morphed or changed,
somehow stuck in a time
that no longer exists.
It’s almost as if it knows that
some things
just aren’t meant
to stretch.
Where are we?
Where have we gone?
I cannot remember you,
but I can’t recall a time before you either.
You are a shadow that has been cast over my life.
Faded,
except for when the light
hits
exactly right.
Behind the Writing
“I was inspired to write this piece after looking back at photos of my old friend group from when I was a kid. Those people really impacted my life and I felt compelled to write about it. I started by just writing as if I was speaking directly to them. After that, I just revised over and over again until it slowly became a poem. Finally, I focused on more technical things, like structure and grammar to make the final product.”
Noor Assi
Writer To Writer Literary Journal 