I used to sleep through the night.
My body twined around yours,
Hearts beating for each other
Through the thin membrane of skin
Now we trade shifts
Where one closes their eyes
And the other absorbs red lights
And cigarette ash in the cold
My blanket smells like your body wash
And the cologne that your father gave you
And the wooden floors creak
Under your feet after midnight
I used to consume your smile
Like a leech on a fish\'s belly
Where the scales are appointments
And your tongue was the ink.
Now I hug myself at night
With the blanket that smells like you
And the floor boards don\'t beg
For the caress of your callouses.
I taste the salt and vinegar of your words,
Weakened by time,
Where we nakedly rest against
The walls of the house we built
It is winter, and the roses I lay on
The grave of our love shatter like ice shards
And melt into pools so red
that they are almost black
I miss your warmth.
I miss your smell.
I miss the drum of your heart
Beating while mine rests.
The year closes,
And again,
I age while you do not.
Tuneless songs fading into the poppyseed night.