black watch

sometimes, late at night,

i remember you

and the fun i thought we had

together

all those years ago

and miles away.

in holland we ate

bread and cheese

and apples;

in germany,

we wandered the koeln dom.

i thought we were inseparable —

we could talk about anything

and i wasn’t afraid,

except when your face

got too close

to mine.

was that the problem?

i was on the brink

of my teens,

and you were

becoming an adult.

is that why we left

our friendship in

the fatherland?

it’s raining outside

and i want to remember

everything forever,

but you never said a word.

i suppose now

i don’t need you,

but the 12-year-old

you left behind

wishes the man you are today

could see the woman

she’s become

and aches inside

from not knowing.

i remember you,

sometimes, late at night.

do you remember me?