On the first day I noticed nothing but your hair.
How it caught the sunlight and reflected it tenfold.
How it swayed around your neck.

On the second day I noticed nothing but your lips.
How they individually felt between my teeth.
How they left marks upon my neck and thighs.

On the third day I noticed nothing but your mouth.
How the words flowed out, powerful as an ocean.
How your teeth would bite me ear, drawing blood.

On the fourth day I noticed nothing but your hands.
How they held mine, always eager to calm them.
How they pulled the needle out of your arm, quivering.

On the fifth day I noticed nothing but your legs.
How they powerfully allowed you to stride great lengths.
How they were ever in motion, even in your deepest parts of sleep.

On the day sixth I noticed nothing but collarbones.
How I wanted nothing more but to crawl in to them and rest.
How I could gently **** on them, causing your whole body to palpitate.

On the seventh day and for years since I have noticed nothing but each individual hair on your body.
They each have a name, Kassandra, Jared, Peter, Ryan, Falyn, Jacob, Hammed, Caroline, Audrey, Yo-Landi, Diane, Khajjitt, Daralyn, forever and ever and ever.

On the last day I noticed how I never noticed your eyes.
But you were gone,
and I could not tell you what color they are.