Against forgetting, a method

So as not to forget you I stopped naming you. What has no name is not lost: it dissolves.

I tried habit first, keeping you inside things: the mug, the left side of the bed, the song neither of us chose and that was always playing.

But things betray you. They wear out, they break, you give them away and one day the mug is only a mug and the bed is as wide as a country with no borders.

So I changed method. I turned you into abstraction: not the colour of your eyes, but the idea of looking. Not your voice, but the possibility of being called.

That way I no longer lose you when I forget the details. You are in everything that has no shape yet, on the edge of each thing that begins, in the part of the world that has not happened yet and that, when it happens, will vaguely resemble you.