Wednesday, 3 July 2013


Whether the days were long,
I did not know,
My eyes turned unseeing,
From the bedding on the floor,
We made our home,
To the hallways,
Deserted now,
Where you used to roam,
And I,
Clutch the quilt a little tighter,
To hear again,
Your voice,
In the background,
The raindrops falling,
To the streets below,
The gentle patter,
Of your laugh,
Against the marrow of my bones,
Caressing touch,
Your fingers,
Tracing my collar bones,
Fingers cool as the stones,
That lay beneath our feet,
That January morning,
When we walked down to the beach,
To hear the echoing,
Thunderous crashing,
Waves overlapping,
And we like children,
Listened to the calling stirring within us,
The call of the sea to our spirit,
In the darkest hours before dawn,
Eyes close,
Lost in memory,
Of skin,
And warmth,
Imprinting forever,
The scent,
Of silken skin against skin,
Hot breaths misting the air,
In between,
Cool linen sheets,
I remember,
Even with eyes unseeing,
The way the sun,
Used to make you glow,
As it peeked just so,
Over the top of the window,
Your hair a darkened halo,
That gave your face,
That serenity,
Only seen on marble angels,
On mornings filled with snow,
And the world is hushed,
With the love for you,
That I now crush,
Into a tight writhing ball,
Of unspoken loss,
And sorrow.

~Rei Shiori

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