I.
I still see the outline of your body
against the dark stillness in my room,
a tilt in your walk, the curve of your back.
I remember the breath of your voice,
the length of your hands, the feel of your sides,
the emotion I felt through your lips.
It would be unfair for me to say
I didn’t want to give you everything,
Man of my night,
Lover of my life,
Dreamer of my dreams.
II.
This is madness they say,
hurt gnawing away inside of me,
mascara laced trails streaming
down my squared cheeks,
subtle landmarks of missing memories.
We didn’t understand the cost,
or laid out plan, my mind
foregoing the possession of my body,
as a distant name rang forward.
I remember all the details,
the signs appearing sporadically
across the curves of my body.
Before, I had never known feminine
as I know her now.