He held me
like a lover
but he loved me
like I was a
twitching
and still shaking
new born babe.
Nothing about him
ever struck me as special
but god, he really was.
When I heard
he was was leaving
I was rather consumed
by a dull aching desperation.
I let him go,
and he left,
and now I am alone.
The ache
is still here,
but he is not.
I tell myself
I must move on,
I'm sure eventually
I will.
While the ache
is duller,
dulling,
dulled,
the memory of his arms
still grips me in my dreams.
Adding your comment: