I forgot to pick the lilies
tattooed on your skin
save my tongue
caressing the corner of your lips,
pick up my hair
to sink it on your back.
I forgot to save your hands
while you made my braids,
turn off the lights
and get lost in your gaze.
I forgot to change the sheets
to wash your orgasms,
coffee foam
in every smile,
my last steps of white oil
thrown into the air
with your daughter's head bowed
avoiding looking at me
I forgot not to send you songs
with every little bit of you
in every night,
when I kept
the spider webs.
I forgot not to turn
to say goodbye to your son.
I forgot his little man's hands
saying goodbye
I forgot your shields,
your walls,
your fears,
your mouth closed
hiding hearts,
hiding you
i forgot to forget
your outstretched hand,
because mine
she just wants
hug you.