Gone


I’m scared of what will happen
when I can’t feel the aching
bruising of my lips.

When my hips
don’t whisper your name
each step I take.

When I don’t automatically
feel your ghost 
as I close my eyes.

I don’t want to forget
Something this
excruciatingly
exquisite.

I don’t want the
proof that it was all real
to fade into the
nothingness of nights long gone.

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