I miss the crinkle smile
lines slithering up your
cheeks like canals on
the Martian surface-
evidence that life was once there.
Or the way your laughter could penetrate
the depths of my dead skin like
harmonious frequencies
erupting from a kitchen muse.
And where your hands touched
so did Midas follow;
and where your hair spiraled
out of your face in pinwheels
so did galaxies imitate.
The bed is colder now that you
have stepped away.
I miss the depressions in the sheets.
Oh yes I miss a lot.
But most of all I miss
what I never thought i would miss-
the ability of your lips to create
the sweetest music I’ve ever heard,
a thousand lyres playing in unison: I love you too.
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 1:28 AM UTC
I miss the crinkle smile
lines slithering up your
cheeks like canals on
the Martian surface-
evidence that life was once there.
Or the way your laughter could penetrate
the depths of my dead skin like
harmonious frequencies
erupting from a kitchen muse.
And where your hands touched
so did Midas follow;
and where your hair spiraled
out of your face in pinwheels
so did galaxies imitate.
The bed is colder now that you
have stepped away.
I miss the depressions in the sheets.
Oh yes I miss a lot.
But most of all I miss
what I never thought i would miss-
the ability of your lips to create
the sweetest music I’ve ever heard,
a thousand lyres playing in unison: I love you too.
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