I Hope You Remember

I hope you remember
the sounds that echoed
into nothingness.
The rainfalls you didn’t catch
fleeing in the opposite direction
into oblivion.

I hope you remember
the blue chair you left
vacant,
cold,
as the windstorm began leveling the house of cards.
Now your chest is tightening up
tears are welling up
and suddenly
the urge grips your thumb
scrolling through your phone to
dial me.

I hope you still remember
that the sun and the moon
revolve around your orbit.
And I,
was just a shooting star.

I hope you remember me
less.