We sat close, huddled for warmth
in my freezing abode, a lone candle
lighting the room. Hands
with a mind of their own move
and caress
and cannot help but hold you.

We shared our worlds
and painted our faces
and laughed like children.

No one saw us and we were happier
that way.

I remember your voice as you read me
your favorite poem:

"...Of human love,—renounce for these, I say,
The Singing Mountain’s memory..."

And your brow furrowed as you
listened to mine, looking for some
hidden message in the words that were not mine:

"...Here, now, we forget each other and ourselves..."

We smiled like we used to
(before we forgot how.)
We told secrets we didn't know we had.
And nothing felt wrong
or ill-at-ease.

We slept most of the night as one,
holding each other like we couldn't let go.
So close that my skin was your skin
So close that we smile, and kiss, and smile, and kiss...

...And I woke up with sweat on my skin
and a tremble in my spirit.
Reluctantly knowing that it was too perfect for reality.

You are gone and never were.
Today is ruined without you to wake up to.