the mirror must seem empty;
a line cast into water
in which
i no longer swim.
Tag: writing
i am torn up
ragged
but there is pleasure
still to give
there is love
still here
to enjoy
i placed delicate lily petals
on the floor
and lit candles.
the light crept around
the darkness,
along with the sounds of summer
and the heat –
such heat.
i can’t remember your taste,
a memory i can leave
in the past,
but the lily petals,
how they curl inward,
flesh toned and sensual,
they remind me
of who i was –
of who i am –
even as i willingly
release memories of you.
the dust of
the past
still
underneath
our nails