no pants nor memory

I was running down the hall with no underwear
someone stole all my money while I was away
on the lawn learning backbends
from an androgynous man in combat boots
he taught me all wrong

I returned to find my identity gone
and everyone I had known was fading
every marking half erased—the writing illegible
the house goes on without me as I press hand prints
into a sinking wet carpet
under overgrown grass

My teenage suitcase awaits departure
first I grip the handle
then releasing each finger
it falls as I count to eight

The only thing that’s failed me
is my memory
and I can forgive myself for that