Memories of You

I seem to have lost your face in the faces
of my history discontinued and marked for disposal.
New trails will be blazed though not without the pain
and difficulties of cutting down and weeding out you.

I try to remember your house among houses.
The memories we've forged fit in one glass jar.
There's plenty of space which avoids suffocation
but space allows spreading and blurring of the fact.

I wonder if you will ever return to my dreams.
Do I even subconsciously long anymore
for colorful abstractions and multiplied chances
to stitch back together what never was at first?

I can no longer feel the warmth of your heart;
you're too far away for me to feel your radiant heat,
or maybe it was never you that toasted the room,
and now you seem to have stolen the heat out of me.

These places I don't remember;
all the lost races acrew.
Nothing remains to preserve my memories of you.