memories are not enough

by Kimberly Bowen

the abyss of space, your hand my hip
slowly diminishes over time
each night your heat grows closer to mine
raise my hip, just an inch past foreign lines

the cold current of summer air on my skin
a shoulder bone is where it is to begin
the warmest breath sends a pulse to my soul
lips gaze skin in a swift exploratory blow

shivered heat
my hand in your hand as we sleep
not one inch more of connection
but your fingers laced to mine

spread out unwilling to move
blanket myself in warmth for your departure
a tender touch between forehead and lips
something to hold onto until the end

snippets of memories
hoarded, treasures stored
not enough to live on
just a taunt of bitter loss
forever rapping at my door


Posted on 04/08/2011
Copyright © 2019 Kimberly Bowen

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