It's been a week

A week is a long time.

You start to forget the sound of a voice

The curve of an eyebrow

The feel of skin beneath your fingers.

Lips on yours

A hand held tight…

The details start to fade.

And while before you missed him

With the immediacy, clarity

Of perfect recall,

Now you’re grasping at that recall

Wearing it thin,

Fighting forgetfulness,

And you miss him with a sense

Of desperation

Because you can’t lose those memories

And yet you are, bit by bit.