Your mind will misplace things,
like that moment before your first kiss.
You will not recall how your lips trembled like a Holy Ghost,
or how your eyes drowned in the pink behind your lids.
It will come back to you,
like euphemisms for money
that fell through the hypothetical holes in your pockets.
One day, you will roll down your socks,
and strum the lines imprinted on your calves.
In between those ridges, buried under lint,
it will be there,
like keys found,
or eyeglasses that were resting atop your head.