Post Mortem

Tonight I’m in the mood for poetry

I think, so I smooth a sheet of

thin white paper onto my desk.

But the translucence reminds me

of your skin against the glowing moon

and I can’t bear to etch my thoughts

underneath your shoulder blades.

 

Tonight I’m in the mood for music

I think, so I strum a minor chord

on the strings of my guitar.

But the resonance reminds me

of the way your voice trembled

when you pondered the inevitability of

your descent into oblivion.

 

Tonight I’m in the mood for tea

I think, so I sink a sugar cube

into the steaming murky green.

But the bittersweet taste reminds me

of your warm breath on my cheek

caressing my lips on the Monday morning

before you whispered goodbye.

 

Tonight I’m in the mood for stargazing

I think, so I step into the cool night

and peer up into the darkness.

But the twinkling stars above remind me

of the last time I saw your eyes

light years away and slowly

diminishing in radiance.

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