You are 38. I am 5.
Some memories remain vivid:
The smell of lavender powder
Mom cutting your moustache
in the living room.
You’re sitting on my plastic yellow chair
holding a newspaper under your chin.
around Toa Payoh.
banana splits came much later
Some memories start to disappear:
The sound of your laughter grows hazier every year.
I hope that it’s true
that part of you remains a part of me.
everytime I laugh
(too rough and loud for a girl, I’m told)
traces of your laugh
will always remain even as
the things I tried so hard to remember