Branded

April 30, 2015

I thought I might be addicted

to the feeling of your warm breath

ghosting along the back of my neck,

or the all consuming weight

of your hands holding me down,

and framing my hips.

Yet, I have barely a stutter to show for the

void you left within me, no outward sign, except for

the fine tremors that wrack my body at night,

As the memories of your fingers

trailing paths along my skin,

become impossible to ignore.

I hear the words you would whisper

into the darkness, the feeling of your lips

as you mouthed them down the length of my spine,

searing them there, like a brand,

with the heat of your determination

and the fervency of your love.

Stoic in the belief that you could nurture

the tiny flame in my heart,

into a light as blinding as yours,

But that insignificant flicker

became a roaring fire

that burned in your name.

An inferno, too bright and wild to contain,

and so I am haunted by our memories

seeing and feeling you each night,

Branded and hunted by the phantom of your love.

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