April 10, 2021


Just out of grasp, 
he could almost hear  
and almost see 
The flicker of a tongue
though it wouldn’t stop long enough 
to actually read it
But he remembered how it tasted
what it used to taste like 
Was blood and honey 
and the salt of your inner thigh 
It felt real so urgent
there is something missing.  
Something about a song, 
A lyric that kept repeating
Until it almost made sense
But only for only a moment and now gone
Now the crucial part was missing
There was an absence 
more real than the memory itself
beyond his grasp
beyond his fingers numb and frozen 
the wind blew through his ears
Making a whistling sound
He could almost feel
the actual hole 
Of his soft memory
Almost taste his soft lips
The moment they 
first kissed.

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