The 1980's Then Aging Poem by Raj Dronamraju

I remember kissing you in your room upstairs
While your mother watched General Hospital downstairs
I remember speaking to you in a fog as if your physicality was not visible
Spread your love so unevenly on a surface soon to be consumed by time

I remember disliking a job the very first day, telling my employer I had to move my car, and driving away for good
I remember eating only two meals a day as it got closer to payday at the end of the month but still having flowers sent to where you lived
The speed in which we threw off feeling aggrieved slowed down by time

What a wonderful surprise in the year 2002 when the love of my life filled my blood with the amphetamines of affection
And reversed the demented lemming rush of chronology

What impartial scales of memory are tipped by a better now
By a present that forces the past into one of two kinds of shadow
1.) The kind you rest under on a hot summer's day
2.) The kind that hides something bad, permanently locks it away, under threat of disinfecting bright light