Faded

The night caught in my teeth,
it does not have a name.

What was I chasing?

I promise it was on the tip of my tongue.

What did I find?

A memory I’m not sure is mine.

The shadow pulls over me like a blanket.
Whatever it is can wait.

Aquarians

Sundays, borrowed from you

but I always forget to return.

I almost tell you about my mother,
how she drinks her wine in a coffee mug,

and my father, how he leaves
before the dining table is cleared.

But we have learned never to ask each other

questions that don't belong to us.

From my lips to yours,

an apology.

The rest of us
untouched.