memories are not enough by Kimberly Bowenthe 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
04/08/2011 Posted on 04/08/2011 Copyright © 2024 Kimberly Bowen
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