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.