Remembering wrong

At some point the colors changed
Not all of them, and maybe not that much
But the oranges and yellows were brighter before
and you wore a yellow ribbon
like that terrible song
and your eyes were wide and bright and
I can't even attempt to find words
metaphors, similes, and such
(I'm not sure I remember the difference
to be quite honest
that was always more of your field;
I was playing an acoustic guitar
poorly, to impress you)
and I thought you knew the whole world
and everything and everyone
and I wanted to be everyone
but not at that moment because I had so much
and we had so much. Pause.

Again I find it easier to avoid
the concrete
and descriptive:
a joke, for historical context
('avoid the concrete' is bad advice
for journalism
but good advice
for skateboarding);
But really I just
can't remember
if we parted on good terms.
Or if we ever actually rode the Ferris Wheel
and watched the lights blend and blur until the
world was a carnival and a highway and music
and we blushed at the things we said
because they never came out right, and that was
mostly me in all honesty
and still is
So as a favor
if you see me
in the same town
maybe buying groceries
wondering why none of the fruits or vegetables
are as bright and colorful as they should be
maybe we could try to catch up
with the same questions and the same vague answers
but maybe we're better off
with the memories we made,
though I doubt they can compare
to all the wonderful times we forgot to write down.