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William Allen Jan 2019
Her head rests gently
on my shoulders

Our fingers laced warmly
together

And I can feel her pulse
in palm, as I am sure
she feels the heart
beating in my
chest.

My hand swims freely
through the sea
of her hair.

Ne'er         faltering,
ne'er questioning
purpose.

The smell of perfume
clings      tightly
to my clothes

All these things, I experience
in     her     company
and oh how I long
for them to stay
William Allen Jan 2019
Her gentle eyes like
mirrors
reflected the amber brilliant
flame
Happiness in her smile
glows.

Sweet laughter drips from
her lips.

Warmth & comfort in
her hands.

Language is but a small
barrier
easily
hurtled
by laughter & joyous
eyes.
William Allen Jan 2019
The dim-lit screen from a phone acts as a single candle for the room shrouded in cold black.

I make my way to what was once our bed and slowly slipway under its empty cover.

Isolated and desolate, I lay there.
Accompanied only by your ghost.

The sweet soft impression that your head would have made into the pillow that lay next to me in silence, serves as a despondent memory that is just as cold as the air that fills this room.

The low singing melodies dancing from the dim-lit phone's speaker only help to fill the void, replacing the soft breaths you would take in and out in your calm rest.

I miss greatly your warmth and your mid-night embrace, the way you nestled your tired head into the crook of my arm, seeking the warmth, comfort, and security it did provide.

All I have now is your ghost. A faded memory, slipping away into the night. And I don't clutch it any tighter now, as I used to. Instead, I let it slip freely through my fingertips and I make peace with the night.

I'll close my eyes and let the sun kiss me good morning in place.

— The End —