I still feel you

in the water that covers my toes
after another night staring out at the waves

in my shallow breath,
in my lungs that ache for a red wine kiss

in my blood that runs cold,
begging for the warmth of your touch

I still feel you
I still feel you
are you really...

gone

hearts beating,
black blood

limbs twisted together wildly,
like contortionists

fingers gripping onto fingers,
like icicles

something beautiful,
made obscene

we are a mere echo of love

the girl in the red dress
haunts my dreams

twirling through my nightmares
like a ghost

taking coffee at my breakfast table
like an unwelcome house guest

she carries herself with sorrow
with the reminders of every scar on her heart
one for each time it was broken

she walks hand in hand with darkness
for she has seen it, known it, felt it
with her very fingertips

I do not look in mirrors,
for their reflection will show

that the girl in the red dress
is me

my cure and my curse

wrapped in one flesh

whose fingers flicker lightly down my back

until I beg for moonlight

to conceal the shame of this moment

I stand a monument of your prosperity

but I am really just a fool who cannot

say no

Your memory is etched into my mind

as permanently as though it were stone,
and someone took out a chisel
and carved out your name

I cannot forget you,

after six glasses of gin, you blur
into something more beautiful, in character  

but it is still
your face
your hands
your heart

that have woven me
in the fabric of time and space

so that I am a planet

forever in debt to your sun

I look in the mirror
each morning
and see a stranger
reflected back at me

I take my fingers
and peel back the first layer
of glass, and reveal nothing

I accept that I have to invite this stranger
into my life, like an old friend
offer her tea, make her comfortable
love her enough in the hopes that one day
we may connect

and I shall no longer see her face
but my own, reflected, smiling

Fallen -
like Lucifer
we find ourselves a new home

scolding -
we toast marshmallows in the the flames
let them lick our feet

burn our hair
until the smell makes us
faint

for you,
and only you

I take tea in the fires of Hell