I see your rosy stained cheeks and think of how they would've coated my lips.
How I would've known the warmth of your hand like I know the beat of my heart.
Care giver promises while her tongue played black and white film into my ears,
And while it played she handed me pieces of glass that reflected dreams of darkness,
Like a dye for the heart it stained discarded shoes,
But that's not all because it left lilacs in place of what we lose,
That smell comforts me when my hands meet to be disappointed,
Because they know their lack of size can be filled by another,
Two thumbs connected like the print bonded a perfect match,
But the print dimmed so quickly my eyes are still trying to catch up,
It's only the lack of tingle that my skin once had in abundance that bother me,
It spots are gone but what should I expect.