Your hand softly squeezed mine
and the dark seemed to pulse
around me with what we both
just could not seem to say.
Maybe my love passed through you,
just a bright temporary river,
its memory will be mostly forgotten
but will warm you from time to time.
We left something of ourselves behind
in that tangled and warm bed,
and I was like something extinguished...
There has to be more to you.
Still smoldering with pure memory,
drawing in oxygen to cling to you,
to the unique perfumed air where
I'd remember the smallest things.
How the next breath exhaled
like a warm wisp fluttering
against your messy locks,
how you smiled when my fingertips
reached to patiently undo the tangles.
How you softly hummed along with music
faintly floating from the speakers
and it sounded like more than
just some song that you liked.
It was something that cut deeper,
some personal hymn with a meaning
you could share with no one else,
maybe you wanted to haunt me
with your heart's coordinates,
its quiet and drifting beat that
can never remain hidden with mine.
I never confessed that the melodies
were so seamless and urgent,
that they mapped every secret
I wanted to hand over to you.
Your hand softly squeezed mine
and the dark ached around me,
you had to go and all I felt was
the unique pangs of a phantom limb.
Maybe my love passed through you,
just a bright temporary rainbow,
its radiant hues may be forgotten
but will flash through you at times.
We left something of ourselves behind
in our tangled and warm skin,
and I was like something extinguished...
There has to be more to you.
Still smoldering with pure memory,
whispering your name like coda,
if I say it enough I may understand
and hold on to the smallest details.
How lips can never quite meet the same way,
much like how a fingerprint loops
or how a pen curves along paper,
each kiss is a specific signature.
How the moonlight touched your face
and seemed to light up your eyes more
than any blinding sunbeam ever could,
as if only that certain nocturnal glow
could show me who you really were
when ensconced with my form.
It was something that cut much deeper,
some palpable drift you couldn't
ever shape into a string of words,
maybe you wanted to haunt me
with your heart's vague coordinates
where my love passed through you.
I never confessed that your parting became
the unique pangs of a phantom limb,
and I was like something extinguished,
forever smoldering with the smallest moments.