I would eat the last of the bread
to taste your fingertips again
to remember when you placed
their petals on my eyes
gentle as prayers
silent as the sun
I can't say anything
with a mouth full of crumbs
as your ghost keeps
walking out the door
your lips are remembered
in red smudges on crushed
cigarettes
a plastic reliquary
full of ash.
with a flare of recollection
I try to bring life back with your paper kiss
and feel you in my lungs
wrapped around my heart
poisoning my blood again
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