In her body I had mine.
the tender parts of me existing
in the space between
her touch-
the reflection
of my lines, leaked
into recollection of the light
on her skin.
assume to taste the smoke escaping
from her lips,
ears pressed against her breast-
but I transcribe merely
wilting shadows at dawn.
to find phrase, to excuse
to cease nocturnal turn,
to resolve the days dissolved,
and to absolve
the spayed and incomplete.
but in this
I pervert you;
the bergamot and lavender,
lace curtains and rain,
a rising impression on damp grass-
just memories now
real only as the words
that remain-