Work Text:
I wake up often-
Maybe once a week
And think to myself
"What is your name?"
To the woman asleep next to me.
Listen,
I am not that old.
I'm just over the hill of being 40
But we've lived together for 2 years
I know that.
And I know
I know her.
I knew her a long time ago.
Fleeting memories of
Postcards, and poetry
And the smell of trees and running water
As well as the stale smell of
Sewer and blood.
I know I love her.
We wrote each other's names on the bathroom mirror.
Two sticky notes,
Side by side.
Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh.
I've skipped and sang this tune of her name before
But we sit here and
can't keep memories of each other
And we continue on in our daily lives.
She looks at me some days
Like she's woken up from a coma
Trying to pinpoint exactly what she remembers of me
And some days
She looks at me like
I hold the sun in my hands.
She says I do the same
A lot more than she does.
But
I don't think about things
When I do this
Apparently.
She is often running these ideas
These memories in her head
When she looks longingly at me.
…
I think I'll marry her,
One day.