Bubbles Blown

July 7, 2010

You got out easy, unsatisfied

I am still haunted by every moment

so naked and quiet.

Everywhere around our place, I see us

Our words hanging in the air above

like bubbles blown by some silly child

just floating


until the inevitable – a pop

It’s Over.

Fading like the memory of  an old lover’s smile

You know it’s in your head somewhere

washed out and worn.

You miss the vividness of the memory

You miss the tingle you once felt

at the thought of him.

Now, I suffer in sweet silence

my only comfort a shred of text

a single cloth

with your scent.

Smooth, heavy, laced with sweat and sandalwood.

I can still feel your breath upon my neck, my ears, my lips

touched you so often, yet never enough to satisfy me.

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