Once

We fucked on that old black band t-shirt

Then I never threw it away.

Save the sheets,

Save the dirty creases of fabric on the closet floor.

Save it for weeks, months,

Until you're gone.

Until remembering such a simple thing is awash

Thousands of feet below a churning surface.

Misery loves memories,

But never those you need.

Those are left,

Saved for later,

On the floor of some closet,

Something to pick up,

Stare quizzically at

Before the tears come.

Before you remember that once,

You were happy.