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I still feel your breath on my neck sometimes With that stiff, clinical hand that you placed upon my spine Examining my face for harsh, worrisome lines As I walked the chemical tightrope that exists only in mind Now, still precariously balanced, still unanimously blamed I'm holding out for your smile in each passing face Though it's been years since they burned you in cold Virginian flames I can still see you watching me through the windowpane My name displaced in your mouth like some placid stone The weight on your tongue silencing thoughts unknown As your fingers nimble upon needles, weaving our winter clothes Once slept in a box where your ashes now are stowed You held no Catholic reservations, nor illusions implausibly sweet And left me with no bullets to deliver from stolen grief But sometimes, in my dreaming, you offer me reprieve With skin so milky white, loose and starch like a sheet I watched you behind that curtain, with satin on your back In the flickering light of candles, where shadows often pass And criss-cross in patterns, over blue eyes watery and vast To ignite a glowing smirk, whose teeth do shimmer like glass Your hair still wispy and short, the color of strawberries faint Fallen in a gossamer crown, to covet your wrinkled face You would take to me like a feather, and swath me in your immortal embrace Speaking divinely of Heaven, and all your ghostly grace With that kind, melodious laugh I have so terribly missed Pressing rosebuds to my temple in a matriarchal kiss A dream we were in, your wings reverently clipped For a time, if only, I felt within your loving grip You warned me not to be fooled, to make no mistake You would have returned to your grave by the time that I should wake With trembling fingers clinging tightly to your remains Standing in your old room, the bed forever made I remembered whispering in your ear, as your conscious mind wore thin Life support wailing, the color drained from your lips My fingers searching desperately for the pulse that was buried in your wrist I told you I would never forget you: my precious, parting gift
0
Oct 28, 2011
Oct 28, 2011 at 7:39 PM UTC
For Evy
I still feel your breath on my neck sometimes With that stiff, clinical hand that you placed upon my spine Examining my face for harsh, worrisome lines As I walked the chemical tightrope that exists only in mind Now, still precariously balanced, still unanimously blamed I'm holding out for your smile in each passing face Though it's been years since they burned you in cold Virginian flames I can still see you watching me through the windowpane My name displaced in your mouth like some placid stone The weight on your tongue silencing thoughts unknown As your fingers nimble upon needles, weaving our winter clothes Once slept in a box where your ashes now are stowed You held no Catholic reservations, nor illusions implausibly sweet And left me with no bullets to deliver from stolen grief But sometimes, in my dreaming, you offer me reprieve With skin so milky white, loose and starch like a sheet I watched you behind that curtain, with satin on your back In the flickering light of candles, where shadows often pass And criss-cross in patterns, over blue eyes watery and vast To ignite a glowing smirk, whose teeth do shimmer like glass Your hair still wispy and short, the color of strawberries faint Fallen in a gossamer crown, to covet your wrinkled face You would take to me like a feather, and swath me in your immortal embrace Speaking divinely of Heaven, and all your ghostly grace With that kind, melodious laugh I have so terribly missed Pressing rosebuds to my temple in a matriarchal kiss A dream we were in, your wings reverently clipped For a time, if only, I felt within your loving grip You warned me not to be fooled, to make no mistake You would have returned to your grave by the time that I should wake With trembling fingers clinging tightly to your remains Standing in your old room, the bed forever made I remembered whispering in your ear, as your conscious mind wore thin Life support wailing, the color drained from your lips My fingers searching desperately for the pulse that was buried in your wrist I told you I would never forget you: my precious, parting gift
mackenzie-leigh
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Oct 28, 2011
Oct 28, 2011 at 7:39 PM UTC
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