Untitled #1

The trip from my house to yours,
Is a short one to walk.
But so long, to remember.

Standing on this harrowed street once more, I close my eyes.
The world spins.
The cold of the night dissapears; replaced by the warmth of our intertwined fingers.

The smell of this warm summer day hits my nostrils, filling my body with happiness.
Our laughs steady together in a harmony that was once so familiar,
like a favorite song.

The shapes of our shadows become one
as the toes of your Converse turn against the pavement,
lifting your lips to mine.

And then. I blink.
The world shifts back.
The chilly air envelopes me as the cold darkness of the road returns.

The wetness of my tears,
chase away the warmth of your lips on mine.
I am alone, just as I was last night and the one before.

Staring into the emptiness I see so little,
But feel so much.
The stabbing pain of your exit slaps me again with such ferocity that I stagger to my knees.

The now cold pavement meets me with open arms,
Knowing from past nights what comes next.
The sobbing begins:

And I realize that the only thing to comfort me
is the very thing that brought me to my knees:
The shadow of your memory.