Bumps bloom upon my skin,
Each hair rises in anticipation,
But that neural cascade
fails to climax.
Your voice is falling flat,
Just shy of my ear’s drum
And your flesh is icing over,
Just out of my arm’s reach.
Your taste on my lips is fading…
And with a mouthful left to say,
I’m left dehydrating and thirsting,
Unable to swallow your memory.