I understand

I understand
Or at least I think that I do
You remember those white muscled arms of his smeared with axel grease and dirt
You remember his black hair
Black as soot
The wings of a wet crow
You remember him singing, “Treat me like a fool,” one morning as our hound Goldie gave birth to seven dead pups
You remember all the ridiculous promises you never knew he wouldn’t keep
You fell for his religion, his games, his cock…
…his delusional forays into the green green wild
I understand
That I apparently don’t remember shit!
Or rather, shit is all I remember
I understand
Or at least I think that I do