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Cam Jun 2018
I can still feel your touch--
the pressure of your fingers
against my neck and waist and thighs
The imprints of your mouth stained to my skin
Never to be removed,
until days pass and they fade to nothing
Blown away by an unseen breeze
Not warm and sticky,
the kind that sweetens your lips and lightens your head--
But chilling.
aching your body and flushing your cheeks
and leaving your forgotten; still

I can feel you
Arms wrapped around me tight
Two strangers interlocked in the dawning light
As the sky turns from empty to soft
and the stars disappear to the sun
and the light streams in,
air catching fire
particles swirling round and round

I lay awake watching your chest lift and fall
Still for fear of waking you from sleep
and when your eyelids flutter,
you pull me closer
the sparse freckles on my shoulders against your chest
Outside the birds stir
and you kiss me, stirring something more
but our blood is rid of alcohol,
and awkwardness takes its place
and the goodbye lasts for weeks.
Cam Jun 2018
There’s an emptiness in my chest
I don’t know when it got there
Or how it found it’s place
But with every thought of you
It deepens
An immense black hole
Expanding and taking with it everything
Pulling and stretching
Enveloping time and space and matter
And even when I don’t think of you
Still it grows
Like darkness swallows the golden air
Without a notice
It swallows my self assurance
And my comfort
As if I don’t belong here or anywhere
And I can’t blame you
So I blame the world
And I blame the things and people in it
And then I blame myself for
Finding things to blame
And so the hole eats away
Maybe it eats away at other people too
But I don’t see them
I stand in crowds of people
And I don’t see a soul

— The End —