my palms still bear your stigmata,


and my wrists will bleed etermal for you.


alone you ache my heartstrings


like a symphony of loss and depravation


with that look in your eyes


everytime i leave you.


even for a moment.


that sad shade of green


burns the backs of my eyelids


as sleepless i toss and turn


and reach for an empty half


of a sleeping bag,


wishing i could smell


cool water and contact,


the scent of my skin on fire


where you touch me.





now my skin is chilled


and frostbite is a burn that


could never compare,


even inversely.





and before i run bonedry


and bloodless,


your name passes my lips once again


in hopes that you know


that if i die,


you'll be the final thought that


passes through my mind

07/10/2006

Posted on 07/10/2006
Copyright © 2025 Aaron Michael