Next Time
Next time
Your voice
Sings out my name,
It will be met
With an echoing silence.
Next time
Your eyes
Are drawn to my form,
They will only gaze
Upon the empty space
Of where I used to sit.
Next time
Your hand
Reaches for the
Satin smoothness of my skin,
It will only touch
The ghost I’ve left
And vacant air.
Next time
Your lips
Long to savor
The sweetness of my flesh,
They will only sample
The bitter taste
Of deep regret.
So brace yourself,
My love,
For next time
All that will be left of me
Are the memories.
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