I don't feel much
I don't remember much
I don't bask in sentiments
or think too much of sentients...

but certain objects do linger on...
some I keep boxed in preciously
bejewelled and polished

the smell of your skin
rubbing against mine
my scent on your shirt
carried by the cold night air
the touch of your hair
soft, comforting...
the warmth of your embrace

how many years ago was it now?...