You're not even gone and I feel you 

Slipping, gliding through my fingers

Slowly like black molasses.

If it was quick, like a pale burn

Or sharp sheath I would have nothing to hold on to.

But now I grasp at a silhouette of a soul, your

Vibrant tongue is split and dry.

Poor one, I see you through your eyes but these jaded

Creasing bones scare me. I want to hold you 

But I can't. 

My friend, my love, my darling boy.

Each moon we shared was like a hand print on my heart,

Forever kept, forever kept. 


The End

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