Artemisia Her face slips by too quickly, Too briefly, to grasp the tendrils of past smiles. A thousand dark eyes, identical, Yet so different, stare back at me, Accusing me for forgetting. I'm sorry, I fear I tread too heavily on this fragile remembrance. I can't recall the shade of her hair. Was it the red of autumn's song, Or lighter, sunlight on shadow? Did it shine by the fire, like fire; Amber whiskey down my throat? I can't recall. I can't remember the tone of her laugh. Did it bubble up and pop; champagne, Or was it courser, a husk from the chest? Did she dampen it down; laughter on a leash, Or throw back her head; "Here I am." I can't remember. I can't recall the press of her lips. Did they linger slowly, a blessing, Or take unforgivingly, wild like lightning? Did they part, ever so invitingly, When I showed her how to love, drunk on the essence of us. I can't recall. She is washed out to sea, Drifting away; a quiet drowning. Every moment, every breath drags me further from her; Think too hard and she falls, Sand through my fingers. I'm sorry, I fear I tread to heavily on this fragile remembrance.