03
Nov
10

Flashback of a memory

She sleeps in a bed

Of twisted sheets

And pillows

On the floor,

As I leave

Quietly-

Trying not

To wake her

Again.

The cold

Morning air

Greets me,

As I exit

Into the world

Without her

And her skin

Pressed against mine.

Neither of us knowing

Then

It would be

The last

Embrace

And quiet exit-

Neither of us

Saw the coming tears,

Or the emotional conversations,

With very few words,

Over coffee

In dark cafes,

Trying to sort it all out to no avail.

If we had known,

Would it have mattered then-

That last morning

Of tangled limbs and broken breaths?

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

November 3, 2010

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