When Skin Remembers Metal Poem by Dee Gey

Some days, I take it off.
Not to forget—
But to feel the ache of remembering.
Because even memory has a pulse.

A silver keeper of memories.
Every scratch, every polish,
Every time it caught the light—
In the middle of a kiss, or a fight.
It holds the story of two lives, unified.

I trace the place where it once rested—
A soft, hollow dent, where love still fits.
Small in size, but vast enough to carry
An entire history.

A timeless witness.
It has no eyes, yet it sees—
Anniversaries and absences,
The hush of shared mornings,
The echo of loud nights.
It remembers the things
That words so often forget.

And even now—
Even now that you are gone—
The ring still remembers.
One moment at a time,
One heartbeat after another.
Still, I carry it—
As if you never left.