memento

Do you remember
the birdscratch
words etched
for you
on the wall,
fine black love-note
for the one
I let slip
through my fervent,
seeking hands?

The dying day
melts into lamplight.
Twilight’s
golden-hemmed petticoats
fold into midnight’s
steep black shadow,
so heavy I cannot
see the verdant furrow
of the coniferous
giants outside
the window,

nor the solitary star
flickering
behind grey drifts of moonlit clouds.

In this vespertine somnolence
I imagine
your fingers
brushing upon the tremulous
letters like sacred relics
paltry lines
attempting to transcend
every perfidy and
insidious selfishness

that carved my initials
into your
skin.

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