We walked along the pebble beach,
and I forgot
that I’m a teacher, who has responsibilities
who has a job to do.
We kissed in the cold but crystal clear sea,
and I forgot
temporarily that just a few weeks before
I’d been put on one-to-one observation, and sent home from work.
We watched the sunrise over the Aegean
from our balcony,
and I forgot
that I’m terrified to step a foot outside my house now.
We drank beers and read books by the pool
and I forgot
that my anxiety has gotten so bad
that I can’t see a way forward anymore.
We fell asleep in each other’s arms every night,
and I forgot
what it’s like to exist inside my own head,
just briefly.
We parted at the station again,
and now it’s back to reality
and I’ve already forgotten
the feeling of your hand in mine.