december twenty-seven,
your name still rings
from the atrophy
you had bestowed upon me.

how reckless,
the way i love with
trembling fingers
guiding you to every
isolated destinations
withering through every touch.

i could not speak,

for your eyes
spoke of the
inaudible string of utterance
i could not quite decipher.

december twenty-seven
how forlorn,
the way you left me
without an explanation.