The Same Purple Link

Mitochondria or chloroplasts. Energy or leaves.

I can never keep them straight and I don't believe

my brain will hold it past the moment I close the page,

past the point where it all made sense and I felt my age.

This is the third time this year I've typed it in,

watched my phone suggest my own name, thin

reminder that I'm the kind of person who forgets

this same thing, and the link that never lets

me go—the purple one, already visited.

The article full of words I've admitted

won't stick. I read it. Feel smart for six minutes.

Then I'm closing the tab and the moment slips.

Three months pass. I'm back here, staring.

I search again. My phone is preparing

to autocomplete with my name because it knows

who I am: the person who never knows.