I lost that timeworn, white gold wedding band, the one that represented a broken purity that we as humans have destroyed.
I lost my stern father’s posh shutter lens FujiFilm and for a while we lost track of time between then and now.
I lost my faith in religion and sought out on a journey for other “life meanings” that I now refer to as “regrets”.
I lost that warm, immortal feeling of your hand grazing over my breast, as I’d lie wrapped in your arms desperately fighting the inescapable grips of exhaustion.
Above all I lost the memories of most everything, leaving me with few to cling to: a swing on a tree, my mother dissolved in tears, and the back of your sports coat as you walked away for the last time.