Occupant

There was something I forgot to tell myself.
I forget to mention I can't remember
the names of men
I kissed in better times.
They elude me,
overdue bills
buried by mounds of junk mail.
I should have a heart to heart
with my unruly past,
perusing pictures from that life.
Remember that dog? Remember that hat?
Remember that night?
There was something I forgot to tell you that night.
I forgot to mention tomorrow
slips off the end of the world,
just leaving us behind
like unopened letters to tenants
who vanished long, long ago.