I searched, and found that I'd lost all memory
of the times when you sat me on your knee
and sang silly love ballads to me.
I couldn't find those spots in time
when we played catch before my game
when we sat down for a game of 21 after dinner
or when you chased me around the house,
tickling me until I couldn't breathe
when you finally caught me.
They seem to have disappeared into time,
somewhere between being "yay tall" and 5'7".
I outgrew those afternoons
and you grew out of those memories.
I look at you, look in you, look through you
and still find no traces
of the memories that died,
the memories that haunt me.