Defunct Memoirs

Give me a chance to submerge you in the past
Let’s start with your smile that caught my eye,
Or we could start with my eyes, that meddled with your concerns.
From comforting walks and easy talks
To hours of dicephering what the other meant.
I remember you placed a leaf on the back of my palm
And ran your fingers repeatedly to trace my veins
And once
You sat there looking, absolutely still, at my head, and how the wind
put my hair in a state of Chaos.
I never understood what you were, and when I asserted very proudly that I did,
I was lying, only lying, just that.
You became a yearning, one that I urged to hold in the morning
For even my coffee reminded me of you, the way your scent blended with it’s aroma.
You were meticulous in your ways and I was hounded by imperfection.
We had been churned together for a long time, to form something different
That was the intention, to differ, to vary, which soon became the cause
For much ado, and worry.
And the story gets gory, why are you sorry?
It's as hopeless as this rhyme scheme, which has no pattern
And only fools cry over that which was never concrete.

Your mouth faces the back of my head and your hands cover my eyes, the same hands that I knew of, from a long time ago.
This is a game I've played before, but I refuse to guess who you are
For your name is all I know now, I'm not bound to be yours,
My soul is in the sky.