In His Room...

When Mrs. Weedgrass put the box back in his room, she scanned what was left of him. On the desk were three sheets of pink paper, folded neatly. They smelled like perfume. In his haste, he must have forgotten them.

And because no one was home to stop her, she opened them and discovered the three he had left behind...


THE MISSING POEMS:
To You
From Me


Missing Part I

When my body is once again on ice
Chilling firm against 2 AM solitude
And buzzed on caffeinated dregs,
I will think upon you.

Nose to nose in little night hours
Against TV flicker and candle flame,
I will recall the soft curve of your head
And the delicate pinch of your cheek.

Remember lips together and arms enlaced,
Fingertips tracing memory lines
And crooked smiles lying face to face.

I will dream upon your night sputters,
(You spoke most, unconscious, next to me)
And I will close my eyes to hear all you’ve yet to say.

And frozen to my bed, I will reach out for one more,
Fervent argument,
Those frayed out, frenzied passion presses
That once burned me up, fired me on.

But you are gone
And I am here.
Solid cold, entombed in all I knew before,
Wishing entwined fingers and teasing toes.
Longing for your brush by and soft secrets,
(The ones I swore I’d keep if you stayed -
if you’d shared them.)

And I love you still, in my way.
I may (May I?) love you always.

For what we have was a tumbling dream,
A fanciful move made permanent,
And I lie…
Awaiting your return.



Missing Part II

Rain comes again to my eyes,
It splashes against my presence.
Day blurs into darkness shines again dims opens.
Shuts firm against a mind torn with memory
And the soft wound of a lover gone.

To be honest, he left quite suddenly -
Rather, the summer months were way too brief.
I watched him slow step into the night,
A young tear suspended in a lazy eye.
(I once wondered if it ever fell.)

My shirt on his back and my pleading in his mind,
He sliced through the night, onward into new days.
Here’s to the memories, to the future, to the now.
And I watched him go, pores shaking from grief.

With stomach clenched and wretched palsy weeping,
I think now to my injured heart’s memory
Of a man who brought both inspiration and lamentation
And led me to burn up and under despite my intuition.

Remember me, dear someone, recall the kiss against the 1 AM darkness,
The cloaked smiles and glances,
The desperate embraces,
The shudders and giggles,
The growls and sneers,
The strength of two brought full force against a challenge…

And knowing it would end.

My someone, my memory, my own,
Creation in time.
When the sun is full again, when the rain ceases to fall,
I will summon you up again.




Missing Part III

Today a pleasant memory haunts my brain.
Casts its familiar shadow,
And I mourn my vanished day;
Its death slow, slipping softly into murkiness.

Into the crypt, that unspoken place,
I drift out and then away.
Life cools and quiets,
And again, I am alone with you.

Suspended this time, I return.
At the curb, in the deepening shades of evening,
You look to me beneath the brim and I can only see your teeth,
That crooked smile line I used to gaze upon.
Wind whistles and your arms outstretch, pleading.

Your mouth dips, curls, returns again.
Faces lift, eyes pierce, searching for my surrender.
And I beam to recall, my nose against your chin, lash flutters
And the scent of dampened skin.

Silent commitment
Was it ever really so?
And I cling to you, to your specter,
As moment fades to gray.

Awakening from numbness, I gaze about for your trace.
Memory settles across my mind and I long again for your embrace.
Floating now, you glimmer then fade.
And I question my wisdom, my balance, my self.
Your outline now only what I can view in this shade.