I Remember

And it is not yet enough to have memories. You must be able to forget them when they are many, and you must have the immense patience to wait until they return. For the memories themselves are not important. Only when they have changed into our very blood, into glance and gesture, and are nameless, no longer to be distinguished from ourselves — only then can it happen that in some very rare hour the first word of a poem arises in their midst and goes forth from them. — Ranier Maria Rilke 

I remember
the first time
I said to you,
“I love you.”
It was just
an ordinary day
filled with
extraordinary feelings…
The sun rose cautiously
that morning
exploring my room
with gentle light.
You, a warm silhouette
against the cool
white sheets
beckoned me
to act upon my words.