Flashbacks
Is that what you call them?
It’s PTSD
Apparently
But it feels more like dreams
When I slip away
And all I can feel is the exact texture of your skin
The feel of the dining hall paper cup on my tongue
The ginger ale mixed with whatever
The sound of the songs we would listen to
Over and over
Because we loved them
We felt the bass in our bones
The timbre in our lungs
The lyrics reverberated from our throats
Everyone else would find this repetitive
We found this human
To endure through a song that made you feel alive
To let it slip around you like water
As our bodies submerged into one
With no clear end or beginning
Of the action or the thought
When did our hearts sour
When did that action turn evil
When did you touch me and have me turn to stone
Instead of spark me to life
Not willingly, but for survival
Like spitting the poison that once was wine
I remember those embraces late at night
Or in rivets during the day
Our faces turned to the mirror
My body pressed to the carpet
As yours pressed to my skin
And we watched each other
The animal fire in our eyes
The feeling that no one ever would feel this
We would never feel this
But with each other
And never again