i feel my back. i feel a pillow up until i feel your arm underneath me. i feel weightless. i feel everywhere.
i’m incoherent and stumbling for words. there are none. it’s a pressure in my ears i confuse with noise, but it’s quiet. then i make sound.
my eyes are closed and there’s a weight over the lids keeping them that way. i don’t see the room or another person. a swelling in my head that keeps me from being cognizant.
* * *
i’ve never wanted something more. in every moment it’s been since. i can’t go back, except i do.
i see you all the time. i feel myself. i don’t feel another person but a warmth. it’s faith in the memory of you. i feel hot and you gave me water.
content doesn’t exist anymore, and love never did. i’m not meant to feel anything and yet i do. i feel it all.
* * *
i don’t think anymore. i try not to feel it and yet, a year later i am. a recollection of a lost thing.
i can’t feel what it was. not anymore. i close my eyes and i want. i pray. i yearn for what’s gone and it’s lost.
it comes in flashes, as all memories do. but i don’t remember a face. i don’t remember you. i cry when i think and i laugh when i realize that i never saw you.
it could have been one month or one year and i wouldn’t know you. there were no faces. there were no names.
* * *
i know a pillow in the small of my back. an arm sweeping me across a bed. a knee. a hairy chest. a breath in my right ear. hands. a kiss. i know how it all felt. more of the same and yet completely unique.
if there were no photographs i wouldn’t know who to picture. i wouldn’t know who changed me. i don’t want to know. i don’t want to remember.
i still want to feel. i still want your touch. i want that memory when it comes as i drive in my car. fall asleep. listen to a song.
i won’t. your door shuts in my face and i walk down a narrow staircase.
featured image credit: Louis Vizet