It’s getting late, the moon high in the sky
So am I but not so much that I don’t
feel his weight on the bed, so familiar I time my breath
exhaling the soft sigh as he lies down behind me
smell that horrible cologne that I would endlessly tease him about
Not so much that I can pretend not to feel the light touch of his fingers
And then his lips on the nape of my neck, making me shiver
Through the window, the moon moves higher,
higher than I because
I roll to my right, hair spread like a silky blanket
on the pillow, becoming damp with my tears
My breath is stolen, frozen and flushed
He is here, and this is the last good day
The last time before the drugs that ate his body took hold of his mind.
This is how I remember him.
Belly to belly, after love, the windows open
The crickets, a saw house serenade
More. His eyes. Smile. Like this. Like now.
Belly to belly.
It can’t be real
I close my eyes and pray, afraid, to open them,
praying I’m wrong
Praying I’m right
I can’t feel him anymore, he’s gone from me again
but I still smell that godawful cologne that I teased him endlessly about
and my skin still shivers
I grieve again,
grateful and devastated
will it never end?
Please never stop.
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Fear Is In The Mind
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