yesterday,
and I can still taste your skin. salt.
copper. fire.
is it in my mind? these echoes
of you, these
frightened half-lives I gather
to nestle against me.
memories. if only
you had left a sign – a hair
on my mirror,
a crumpled shirt beneath
my bed. beneath
my own.
and here I am –
clutching the thought of your breath
as if it were a butterfly,
or a figment
wreathed in smoke.
alone again.
Author notes
m a c e y m u s e
A contest entry
- to think i might not see those eyes. by heavenbird.
400 points, ended May 28, 7 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
this is absolutely beautiful.
-
against me.
memories. if only
you had left a sign – a hair
on my mirror,
a crumpled shirt beneath
my bed. beneath
my own.
-my god. the puntuaction and the fluctating flow is freaking brilliant.
and here I am –
clutching the thought of your breath
as if it were a butterfly,
or a figment
wreathed in smoke.
-this is so easily my favourite poem of the day. how gorgeous
i hope this wins.
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