how do i remember?

how do i remember candle light
or things that move best in the dark--
glowless with no one watching from a globe's-length away?

how do i remember ribs
quiet breathing
pressed into ribs
and my hand not reaching for confirmation that i exist
beyond this?

how do i remember being held--
mother's touch like a slow rush of love
across my brow?

how do i remember being happy being nothing?

nothing remembering nothing
and the smell of wick
come unlit
smoke staining the air
before it disappears
the moment clears
and temptation smears every corner of my mind

i can't hide from the glow even though
i've locked myself out of my digital house

i still press my finger to the
round-center-doorbell
of everything
waiting for something to answer
like a mother, or a prayer

forgetting what it's like to go home to myself
when no one's home

how do i remember to close?
so i can remember to open?

the long ache of longing
that snakes into belonging
only when i hold it like a mother
or a lover
holds heaven under covers
still and steady
through the night