6/18/2017

Touch



There is no touch that will compare to your bare skin on my brow, or the kisses that alit my arms like birds on a branch, swollen with the fervent cries of prayer. We were together, in that time and for that moment, never again. What memory remains, erodes. What love I had for you, I buried deep. So deep that sunlight will never seed the embers of my heart. Your specter shuffles by, a scattered thought sandwiched between a laundry list of to do's and have done's. You are an item, an actor playing lines in the theater of my past. You are a thing on one long pearl string of other things. The lighthouse of your longing grows faint the further I sail out to sea until I one day I cannot see you on the shore. What we had, let it remain in the hallways of our mind. Our greatest love and your regret, the door to which I close and leave behind.