Shape of You

We never put a marker on your grave, 

And now when I think of you

I cry because I don't remember the shape of my love for you

Or the shape that your mind felt like, pressing against mine

Your shape - your edges and curves and bends

The edges where you angered

The curves where you relented

The bends where you surprised

And the feeling of you. 

I lost the feeling of you. 

All I have left

Is a space under a tree

Where I think we put you

I know we put you there

I remember the shape

The earth made

A mound of soil of equal volume

To the shape of you beneath

And my eyes kept straying 

To how much the mound shrank and flattened

Disappeared slowly, a volume shrinking to nothing. 

A shape shrinking to nothing. 

Somewhere between then and now

The tree died too

And the patch of soil

The shape of it blurred

And lost its self. 

Now I say your name over and over

Conjuring a shape

Always a little different each time

I stuff memories together

Add their volumes to make a cumulative container

And I feel blindly along its edges

Maybe the sum of these parts will conjure a whole

And I can resurrect the shape of you.