Remote

Here in solitary velvet dark,

breathing slow, feeling the last

remnants of your scent tingle and pulse.

I sprawl under sheets

grown cold and too much space.

A hole in one wall, a screaming memento of

excessive passion, your moans echo in my mind.

Love was our emotional Gibraltar,

so we would discover new kinds of ecstasy instead.

Now this abode is a black hole for new emotions,

I am a ghost in my own life, walking next to your

memory. When I leave, these dreams of you still

cling to me like smoke. Quit calling, quit coming around.

I remember the day you left me, blue eyes deep as the

Atlantic, flashing. Your raven hair falling

across your face as your hand fell across mine.