I’ll never forget
the night we had
on the rosewood floor,
the way you looked,
the way you smelled
the way you felt
on my skin.
I’d have the floor taken
up and I’d cover my walls
with it to evoke the
memory of you every single day,
more clearly.
I’d build my casket out of it and
bury myself alive, if that is
what it takes to get
you to see that
I am dying without you.