What happened to you
and your dancer hips,
you and your premonitory
lips

I cannot believe the eighteen year olds

we were

or the nineteen year olds
or believe you and I have grown up

and old and apart

And I cannot believe I don’t remember which things were your favorite
or that you cut your long, brown hair
and starved your body
and almost gave up to a noose

And there are these pictures of you,
and yes,
yes,
I did say, “I do,”

but
I cannot believe it is the eighteen-year-old high school you
nor the grown apart, nineteen-year-old college fool
or the now old, old, unrecognizable you

I cannot believe these photos are you

or
vestiges of you,
I cannot,

but
I can

forgive you