in memoriam of what was mine
two/five: a poem on love
there are some pieces of me you can never return.
during the silence between dreams,
I have felt your skin’s whorls and arches
align against my own,
your fingers pressing to my body,
gently,
as if afraid I will splinter in your hands,
as if you have not already watched me
do so a million times before.
perhaps my fragility no longer phases you:
each night, your fingers revisit,
desperately searching
for the unoccupied spaces that once housed
the pieces of me you claimed as your own,
even when you know those fragments
have no home in my body anymore,
even if I am asleep and open,
vulnerable and yours,
despite everything
those pieces of me are no longer mine.
tuck them back into your pockets,
beneath those spiderweb memories
whose strands you will never be able to pick out.
carry them for me,
despite how heavy
they may someday become.
I will lay here, asleep,
your fingers gone from my skin
and venturing elsewhere,
so carry them for me,
and keep them safe:
I don’t want them anymore.
@ellowrites @ellopoetry @apoem_4u #poetry #poem
