Departed

Like a sequel to my other poem, Departure.

The scent of him still lingers in the fabric of his pillow,

His heat still warming the unkept sheets on his side.

I still hear his labored breathing as he climbs the stairs,

The rustle of the sheets as his body molds to mine.

 

The streetlight playing in his chocolate hair,

His fingers running through, pulling at his thoughts.

The prints of his pacing feet on the icy blacktop.

The pain of a decision half-made on his face.

 

My body still registers his tight grip on my waist;

His lips tickling my ear as he whispers to me.

His fingers lightly grazing the bare skin of my stomach,

The chill of the night air clinging to his fair skin.

 

My hands search for his rough cheek where it usually rests,

My eyes open to measure the empty blankets in front of me.

My ear strains, praying for the sound of his boots on the stairs.

"I'm here, love" ears catching his lingering whispers of assurance.

Author's Note

Continued...but is it finished? Help...

Reviews

[Harley]

Ooooh, I love your descriptions, especially of the strong sense of longing.

[Coyote Poetry]

I don't know. Poem has a strong ending. I like the detail of the steps and the touches against the waist. Caring and love is many things. Seeing my wife close by make me feel content. Holding her close make me happy still. The poem flowed with a sense of passion. A good description of passion of need and desire. A excellent poem.
Coyote