(the sound of closing doors)

my bed remembers you
in shape, in scent, in rumple;
my skin still tastes your touch.

that jar of lullabies i caught you,
fireflies to light your way --
in your scorched amber eyes
they dance your reflection
as my body mirrors yours.

i dance to silence and your breath.
to fire and cobwebbed things,
your circus razzledazzle,
your soft mysterious heat.

i'll wrap your voice around me
in half-remembered phrases
and the gasp i can't forget.
to miss, to long, to yearn --
they brush like moths against you,
and flutter shamed to weaker things
as i drown willing in your shine.