i am going to wait
slumber and envision
lick moisture from your
fatigued neck
cup you in the palm of my
innocent hands
trail your scent though my daydreams
etch the hollow below your lip into my
starving mind
construct geographical maps of you callouses
tenderize the knuckles
make nice the bed
I sip
disappointing tea
from a chipped
blue china cup
you were never here
though i may taste the salinity
hold the weight
clutch at the scent
trace the hollow
recite the capitals
take note, the elasticity
tug the sheet
and taste the tea
you were but a
whisper
(Written 25/12/09. Dedicated to H. C.)
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