in memory of the first time

by Callia Liang

Today I am shrinking
becoming the blank space on an application 
or the air sealed inside a new box of shoes.
There are many comforts in this dimension,
precious memories like treasures to be recovered 
if you’re not afraid to dig.
Here underneath this palm tree 
I am the draft filtered through fronds
remembering the first time:
you feel like a caress,
how my body is warmth before it registers pain.
Here on top of this cloud 
I am the sun painting each misty particle with color
remembering the first time:
your tears beat and sting my cheek,
how you are melting right before my eyes.
I become a drop of rain, a reflection.
Memories are flowing in and out of me, 
I become
a million first times, a million tears, 
a million hands reaching forward.
I am looking for yours.
I am always looking for yours.

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