I think the one thing that I fear the most
is that if I leave, in a moment
I will be forgotten.
I am afraid that if we were not meant
to meet again
my time already spent with you
will have had little purpose.
I worry, anxiously, that the words you speak will have
no reference to me and that my embrace
will leave no warmth on your body.
I am haunted by the possibility that I am easy
to let go-
that my actions, my gifts, my undeniable lust for pleasing you
are far too inadequate to have an impact great enough
to endure remembrance.
How easy I am to forget, I fear.