he said

there's something haunting about your scent

it clings to my clothes and my sheets and my neck
my hand
that rested gently on your hip...
it echoes the retreating ghost of you
and i catch a note of it
when i try to sleep at night
my eyes closed
remembering my face in your hair.

and now there's not a silence that fills enough of me to push you out
you stand in the middle and reverberate through it
no quiet moment able to dissipate your form.

you crash through the boxed up rooms in my head and rearrange
******* those sentient summer memories that i can't shake
pouring them into hourglasses that replay
replay
replay.

find your hair on the seat of my car and
your mascara on my pillow and
your shoes under my dresser and
the love you imprinted resting under my collarbone,
seared into my flesh.

and i wanted to say
although i feel nothing
i know i should feel
sorry.