snapshots (tears will fall)

April 11, 2006 tuesday - 11:44

what hurts more is not what i don't have but what i do: a picture of your hands but not your face; a glass of champagne but not the lips that drink it; the anticipation but not the event.

why? why didn't i?

these i will forget:
being lifted up into the air, laughing, the feeling of being swung around, off the ground.
the muscles on your back beneath my fingers.
the chandelier at the restaurant in the vieux port.
the scrape of your goatee against my mouth.
the taste of your lips, your tongue, your teeth.
lying next to you, cradled in your arms.
your knee against mine, under the table at dinner.
your teeth against the skin of my neck.
the warmth of your chest.
the softness of your hair.
your fingers on me, making me squirm.
your gentle touch and your gentle words.

god, my heart is breaking.

i saw you, from 20 storeys up, as you cycled home in the cold. you were tiny, under the orange lights, and you turned the corner and were gone.
and i have already forgotten;
what do you look like again?

i could see you again, one last time, and another, and another, but these will all be last times, and it will only make the farwell even more painful. let that last be the last, and let me sleep, and dream, and forget.

prefix | suffix

diaryland | archive | newest entry | profile