(Late-night writing.  I still love it.  Day 324…)

And I’m screaming at the top of my lungs, pretending the echoes belong to someone…someone I used to know…

My hands form the shape of you
Against the wall
Against the light at my back
I hold the image of you in my hands

Temporary amusement
Until the realization that the fingers that once counted kisses by drumming down your ribs
Well never fully hold you again
That the smile Sun rising across my face
Will retreat to dusk

Even if I turn off the light
And act like I’m holding you in the night
My sadness breaks the fourth wall
And I remember
It’s not real.