are you dead too?

His fingers run through my hair...
Just as yours did.
Palms large and soft; the wind dares
To graze my skin.

The wind is a man; I wish he were you.

His breath on the nape of my neck...
Kissing furthermore.
Giving my nose a swift peck...
Rattling the door.

The wind is a man; I wish he were you.

Forming tears without trying...
Cold blow to the face.
He kisses before biting.
Nips in the same place.

The wind is a man; I wish he were you.

Reminds me of what once was:
Summer days... cold nights.
Whispers of our eros love...
Blown out candlelight.

The wind is a man; I wish he were you.

I still have that bottle of Jack you never finished
(Don't worry, I finished it for you)
And that empty bottle of beer you left by my bedside the night you took one of the last firsts that I had
And now that you've left
I'm starting to see similarities between myself and the bottles
Empty
Maybe I keep them around for like minded company
Empty

Or maybe I keep them around to remind me of your heart

because we're not quite there yet
or at least that's what you tell me when I ask how
you feel
I never know exactly when that moment is
or when it will be or
if we'll ever even make it that far
but I'd like to think
we will

my only proof being
our sunday mornings
between grey sheets and
laying in until noon,
laughing
the saturdays before them and
my inability to fall asleep
how I would much rather stay
awake with you
than give in to the tired I am
I am certain
that I could spend all of my weekends like
this

your laugh against mine
like words against a concerto
unconventional yet
somehow beautiful
my hands poking at ribcage
to find the spots where
you become vulnerable
how I am it,
always

the way my body fits
perfectly into the curve of
yours like the smile I cannot stop
wearing
like the dress that hugs the hips you
love so much
how my chin is your favorite hill I have
and how I become an entire valley
at your touch

I don't know what else to say
I'd like to think that time
will write the rest
for us

I don't love you
not yet
but I'm on my way,
I know it.

.

Remember...
The bashful gazes that worked their way into your armour

Remember...
The clumsy saunter that incited your laughter

Remember...
The lips that parted confidently only to reveal child-like stutter

Remember...
The warmth that enveloped your hand as we walked together

Remember...
The winter day's kiss that felt like never-ending summer

Remember...
The day disappointment overwhelmed and doubt grew bolder

Remember...
The inevitable conflicts that resulted in futile banter

Remember...
The embrace when everything fell apart and seemed unclear

Remember...
The whispers that failed to soothe when your pillow got wetter

Remember...
The journey that now seem to not matter

Remember...
My heart as you once did...
As your silhouette drifts away,
everyday much further

I have been experiencing
a type of bleeding
And it's not those
Monthly lady pains
Nor is it those injuries
Of open wounds or of sliced veins

But rather a cut that's
Deep within in me
Which takes root in my heart
Because ever since you left that day
My whole being was already
Torn apart

He stuck two sticks in the mud
Forked like a moccasins's tongue
To hold both poles while we smoked
Camels we stole from the coal
Truck man and drank homemade
Wine swapped for a knife and a dollar
To the drunk up the holler and a can
Of sweet corn ten years old still dusty
And rusted but the trout hit it hard
Anyway like slow flies on a slow
Golden Saturday a long time ago.