Making love to myself
alone again
in a room with only four walls
but my mind is beyond dimensions.

I snake out a hand
rubbing memories,
feverishly reinventing
to soothe the fractured breast.

A beautiful stranger
seeps into my tears,
crystallizes on my cheeks
and cracks into a million diamonds.

But nothing is worth
the pain of an empty heart
when a hand can replace passion
and sting like a slap across the face.

Your china face sits on my bureau,
softly weeping,
beside the glue that never works,
covered in dust clothes.

When I come too
I am no further ahead and I
fall once again to the bed, trying
trying, to rub out that spot…

the spot that remembers you.

This is beautiful Gwyn.

Love it. You captured so much and dressed it beautifully.

Thank you Rainy and Lady!

A good read Gwydion.

Les