Knowing

Once, I was sure I knew myself -- the feel of my own skin, the falling of my hair, the noise my body makes, my voice's cadences. I was sure. I knew myself. I thought I knew you too. I was sure I knew my town, my own slice of the world. I memorized the way the trees leaned, the faces of the people on my block, the feel of my grandmother's hands. I was sure. I knew my world. I thought I knew you too. I knew the line of your jaw and the feel of your hands on my waist. I knew the way your name could fall fast or soft from my lips. The way we talked of the future even if most of it was just talk. Those were the things I was sure I knew.