Yes, I remember.
I remember
Track and field,
Rubber cement glue,
Soccer legs,
And Ramen noodles in a cup.
Chilly bleachers, metal seats,
Tie-blankets,
And taking pictures of me at
tennis.
Smiles and emails,
Funny stories,
Our hands interlocked.

But now track and field season
is over.

The Ramen tastes metallic and disgusting.

The bleachers are covered in a dusting of snow.

The tie-blanket lost its sweet
scent of grass after two months in my closet.

And then, gently, painfully,
my hand slipped out of yours.

Now all I remember is
Your eyes looking at me,
through me,
around me,
now anywhere but me,
imploringly, asking silently,
What did I do wrong?