Debri lingered on the dark mahogany desk that your hands once meticulously cleaned

As I stared I couldn't help but think of the countless times when those hands also grazed mine
Through passion or even anger
The sweetness of your movement is my treasure
Stored in the most precious place
A place you swept delicately away-
Stealing the humming of its flutter
The flutter you took with you on that cold evening in December
Though I cannot say I will see you again one day
I will still talk to a wall with a picture hung upon it-
Perfectly straight
Only to humor my own indulgence

If I could distort the science
For even only a sentence to share
I would
Instead my voice will continue to rattle the leaves of the trees above me
With an endless touch
Left to be savored on my skin
And in my heart

(C) Tiffanie Noel Doro