This Is How I Remember You

My mind is filled with so many memories, but they’re moments society has deemed insignificant for us to hold. I remember every little thing about us, like when we people watched in Washington Square Park and you put your head in my lap, how we slow danced in silence as we waited for the train in the unbearable heat underground, that time you handed me a single rose at the end of the night, and the way you looked at me the first time you told me you knew we were more than just friends, like flowers savoring petrichor after an entire season of suns. I remember these things so perfectly, and with so much color blossoming the minute I think about us, but show me a formula and I’d remember nothing at all, and I am looked at like I’m a failure because I can never remember things in the way people want me to.