How I long to be
The sweater gripping your skin
A complimentary ocean blue
Harmonizing your swimming eyes

Hugging tightly to
Your sleepy bones
Sinking you when you leave shore

How I long to be your jeans
Clinging softly to you
Melding to your wet skin

A blue cotton night sky
Enveloping you
In the heat
Of my embrace

Breath dancing across my skin
Raindrops trickling down window panes
Lips nipping bared flesh

Offered up
My sacrifice
Tender splotches of you
Signatures across skin

Your voice a whisper,
just a hanging evening fog,
draping its arms around me.

I am stained carved oak-wood
Shaved by your skilled hands
I'm shaped anew

Become lost in the folds of now
I am unrecognizable
An object traced by my hands
Forever holding sharp edges

Fragments of the past
Dancing on broken glass
Sunless Septembers
A  cold ache
For what we once had

Sweet melodies
Poured out of our lips
Warm summer nights
Sealed with a kiss

Glistening eyes
Wholesome and true
Unsaid goodbyes
Linger in our minds

Cool breezes
That blows happiness upon our skin
Green meadows that stretch for miles
Meet our joyous eyes

Worries disappear
Erases the signs
They were ever here

September days
Can't make memories fade

We've still got the pieces
Of everything we made

Beneath the floorboards
Is the continuous race of a lover's heart
Steady, an ocean forever crashing against the shore
Swimming with the familiar scent
Of your midnight skin

The constant warmth
Of your searching lips
A tidal wave of memories
Churning under our foundation
Rocking me to the core

My bones are rattling china
On a train racing to you
Tracks clinging to the edge
Like Your hands melded to my hips

My eyelids tattooed
With your name
Sewn to me
A second skin
Wonder if the me before you
Will ever surface again

Took youth
Set it to sail
On sinking ships

Our frantic
Greedy hands
Never close enough
But grasping still

Had our nimble fingers outstretched
Adulthood a locked door
Keys round our necks

Unlocked the door
To become
Swallowed
Devoured whole
Captured by the dark

Attached it is thrown
Tossed aside
That last backwards glance
Dropping
Sinking
Sand through open fingertips
Projected
Splashed wickedly across my face
Painted within my irises

It is said
Grappling is synonymous
With coping

You are everywhere
Stitched into my very fabric
Linens I can press my face into
Lingering with the fragrance
Of your honeysuckle skin

Not haunted
But guided swiftly
My beacon in the dark
You are everywhere

Every creaking floor board
Sighs your name
Softly onto my neck
Can still feel your breath