I like to believe I've married all of my past lovers in some
parallel universe
I like to believe that somewhere somehow
our love isn't
Dead.

I want to memorize every part of
you
The shape of your thighs
The nook of your back
The velvet of your lips
And the siliken moans you make when I put my lips there

It takes 64 days to get over you
I stop counting on a cold inebriated night,
the dark forest hanging over my heart
and my footsteps echoing in the shirl silence of a wet hill.

It takes 64 nights to get over you,
64 blue evenings, 64 indigo skies without stars, 64 colorless dreams uneven sleeps, disjointed sleeps, and 64 dreams of forgetting.

I count 64 nights, three encounters with cold metal, two brisk walks in the pelting rain, and one soul standing two steps beside my own body, not yelling your name.

When you kiss her
And realize passion does not
live inside her
You will roll over with a sigh and
remember me
You will trace your fingers over my favorite spots and
feel that my prints
Are engaved into you skin
Right there,
To remind you
No one
Can
Touch
You
Like
I
Can.

Circumstance will never understand What
It
Has
Taken
From
Me

I see myself falling back into
old ways,
But I no longer care

So I'll let you bruise your knees on her bedframe
The way I did last Friday night
And after subtle thoughts and unpublished words
Will I still reach for her hand,
But with apathetic eyes and ebony hair,
She grows distant
I recede