A reflection on the death of a relationship.

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Public Domain

The breeze carries your warmth as it kisses my skin
Your fingertips won’t reach across the divide
Finger and thumb can’t hold the needle
That behold the eye
That sutures the ruptures in the beats that pulse through my veins
That carry the words that heal and wound simultaneously

Hands can’t hold the imagination that resides in our heads
That release the echoes of the laughter
That filled the silence
That sent ripples across lakes of tears
That washed over the feet that stood by the water’s edge

Reason and answers have no place in the heat of our skin
That evaporates with the warmth of the sun
That bridges the gap in the teeth that sucked cold breath then delivered warm lips behind ears
That ring with the resonance of what was meant to be

You took my meaning and nailed it to the cross I will bear
Until the day my mind and bed are made up
You were the sheets of my desire
We had the power and the glory at our fingertips

Poet, artist and housework averse.

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