MUSE

 With gentle fingers i'll graze your jaw one last time,

Follow the outline of your mandible, my fingertips, quivering,

Reaching your chin, i long last,let go.

Dispel you from my being. In your masterful, forever seeking hands, i surrender a melancholic freedom.

(there are worse things than lonliness but thete are little things worse than loosing you.)

I remember palms spread wide upon your chest,

I remember heartbeat,

I remember music,

I remember iambic pentameter,

An entire sonnet, revibrating in your thoracic cavity.

A name whispered, three syllables twenty to thirty times a minute.

Cue : silence

Once, i wanted to be a scholar, languages with honey thick, sticky vowels lulling me in discourse.

Constellstion awaiting my familiar eyes every d

Solemn, clear skied evening.

Bookmarks scribled citations in scattered dusty pages of literature.

I'd have academia upon my fingertips, a poetic renaissance dream.

Find instead: distraction

A single body/ i study the curve of your spine and the dips in your back 

the hollow in your voice,

the glazen of your eyes,

with masterful artistry, a paintbrush and pen

love became study, study became muse

i am left a connoisseur of your touch,

an apologist desperate for your taste,

yearner of knowledge, victim to temptation.

(there is much to learn about the World in the eyes of another, little left when that other is gone.)

  - i am learning but still no better at goodbyes.