Posted on Mon, Mar 24, 2008 00:00
I breathe you in, the scent you've left behind
from days ago when last you touched me.
I breathe you in, first breath every morning, last breath every evening.
In between, the days pass in a daze
of remembrances so full of you,
my legs begin to quake and tremble.
At night the moon tricks me.
Its silver light shines on shadows
where pregnant spaces lie,
furiously resting and revealing
the imprints of your movements.
So that when you are gone
I walk the steps your naked form
paced along side my bed,
playing, in time, both our parts...
for no one.
Wishing you my audience
As pillows lose their form
and share with me no warmth,
longing becomes too heavy
and mid-sleep I choke on your breath.