The curve of her shoulder blade were the same valleys in her eyes:

Long summer days drawn out by even longer sunsets.

I can still hear her laugh, feel the tickle of grass where she sat beside me:

His was a memory long gone.

She kisses me on the mouth, once, twice:

Her breath brushes my cheek. “Don’t worry,”

She chides, as she always does, though she knows this is of no help at all, nor am I to take her seriously:

I will heal in my own time.

My hands drift across her upper torso- what beauty, how pliant;

I try to admire every bit of her, as he did not do to me.

She bites her lip, knows it will not be long before I have to go:

Since that autumn two moons ago, I bid my farewells early.

Since that autumn two moons ago, I curl up in bed feeling lonely.

Since that autumn two moons ago, when his teeth clacked against mine and his hands were the apocalypse I could never dare to fight;

Since.