the faint sound of waves hitting the shore,
your fading laughter,
you calling my name
on one Sunday afternoon.
captured in the mid vein of my life,
starts to play when I declare an end
leave a sharp stain on my wet bleeding heart
I’m careful not to imagine
the warm smell of your skin,
behind your ears,
on the back of your neck.
but your arms come unannounced
pulling me far too close,
exhaling the others.
do I rely on my heart
who refuses to believe that you’re gone,
or my head
who weaves ways to bring you back to life ?