I thought about him as I woke up this morning... [poetry]

I thought about him as I woke up this morning.

I'm not sure whether it was the bad dream

Or the fact that sometimes, you can't help but miss

What you can't hold, what you can't touch,

What impregnated your body and touched your mind

In the violent and charming ways of a hummingbird

Flapping yellow in the virgin purple of a prunella.

I thought about him fondly, passionately, angrily,

Wondering what it meant to be in love with a man

Whose flesh you tasted, whose heart you ate,

Whose body you tied and buried, with your own hands...

Maybe specters haunt us in uncanny ways,

Like cold breeze sifting through door sills,

Uninvited, into everyday life, late night dreams 

And spring mornings as we lay spread eagle

Licking the taste of blood off our parched lips.

Maybe abandoned lovers leave stains that, 

No matter how hard you try, how hard you rub

(Bleach, detergent, soap...)

Come back and show dissimulated dirt

Under carpets, covers, bandages, skins

And under the pretence of joy, sunshine, clear skies

And bittersweet dew of memories on Spring mornings.