Friday, July 16, 2010

not time.

I remember your body perfectly--
your thick, smooth hands
the wideness of your ribs
the hairs on your chest that left their
curled imprint on my cheek--

your voice, too,
as we lay with the light crawling slowly
out your window
and you sang in a soft, husky tremor
that made even your floor lamp
lean in to listen more closely--
the intonation of your speech,
with laughter pulsing behind nearly
every word

but, somehow,
your face is only a flash in my memory
one instant, there is your smile
then I bring out your eyes,
the ears that you won't let me kiss
the widow's peak that worries you--

but these bits don't fit together,
and I am at a loss
trying to remember your face.

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