A resolve despite her loss

She turns our vinyl to its B-side

erases all her words

so that only whispers cut into me

and the residual luxury of her skin melts into mine

in the maple memory of our sunlit night.

still my soul billows in the wind

like fresh sails on a familiar sea, made foreign

and haunting like ash in my burning mouth;

her cinnamon fingers and amber eyes seize my ribs

crushing me with grace, and the other soft movements

she emits—

this is my heart’s storyline and beat—

my soul’s repose for which

I’d searched forlornly

all life long.


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