she left nothing
by which i could remember her
not a trace
not an echo
not the outline of her
body in my bed
where little deaths
brought new life
she left no note
no crumpled paper
from her pocket
i keep looking at my chest
where she left her mark
the bruise has faded
and all i see is shadow
i've searched my room
looking for some piece
of her, lingering
but there's nothing
today, i drink coffee from her
unwashed mug, i drink of memory
the burn of fingers on skin
the sting of teeth
biting my tender bottom lip
her hazel eyes that knew me
24.1.08
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3 comments:
Very glad to find your posts. They carry me along. Thank you.
Beautifully written - thank you for sharing this!
i drink of memory...
Oh hon - this is beautiful, and bittersweet. Lovely.
xx Dee
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