crave - poetry

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


painter said...

Very glad to find your posts. They carry me along. Thank you.

Robin said...

Beautifully written - thank you for sharing this!

Curvaceous Dee said...

i drink of memory...

Oh hon - this is beautiful, and bittersweet. Lovely.

xx Dee