A poem.

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when i shut my eyes at night
and allow my mind to wander,
sometimes
if the mood is right
i can still make out the space between his eyes,
their shape
their size
hes all but forgotten, otherwise.
the fleeting moments of love still remain
but theres nothing else to gain
by recalling his frame and the bones in his waist.
ive willed myself to forget his lips,
but their smokey taste still sits.
the way he ignored me through sleepless nights
the fights
the light that grew in his solitude
the tears that drew in his bleakest gloom.

the bedroom is an empty void with a new lover by my side.
but yours is the ghost that looms,
so in the earliest mornings when i wake and see his face,
if he looks back too
through the haze i see you.

//jf 5.6.2020

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