The time we jumped around
in our sneakers
in the pebbled pond
not caring
whether or not we
got soaked from head to toe
and screamed at by our mothers

Don’t you remember?

How we used to tell secrets
and stories
under thick blankets
at night
giggling when we got caught
and our mothers shook their heads

Don’t you remember?

How we were practically born
on the same day
by the same person
stuck together like glue
that only
thick scissors
could break us apart

Don’t you remember?

Now all you can
say to me ever
is either
“Your shirt is cool,”
or
“I like your hair.”

We had so many memories together.
Don’t you remember?

I do.