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Lost Love
by Crissy M. Sullivan

I sit here drinking black, Columbian coffee, 
thinking of how long it has been,
since I last saw your eyes and felt 
the volcanic eruption of sweat between our bodies...  
But, the longer I think about it, I feel you.  
The aromatic flavor of Gravity fills the room.  

It seems silly, but I feel your breath 
on the back of my neck, and I hear 
that song you always used to sing to me 
pour from this apparition's lips.  
I have this photograph and I cannot 
bring myself to part with.

You know it seems funny to me, 
I keep telling myself that I am a woman,
and I should be abble to let go by now.  
But, the longer I hold that tattered
photograph between my wrinkled fingertips, 
I know, I know that I will probably 
never be able to let it go.  

So many people keep asking me what it was I saw in you... 
and to this day I can never describe what it was.  
Freedom...
It is so simple, and yet, 
it took me months to come to terms with.  

I held you, and I went to a dimension beyond reality.
You touched my skin, and I became a porcelain doll, 
a princess in a world of vulgarity.
Nothing mattered to you, just me.  
But, as with every fairytale, it came to an end.  

I know that I will have to move on, 
but, I will never, never, lose your photograph.  
And that goofy song you used to sing in my ear, 
I doubt that it will ever stop playing in the back of my mind, 
when I sit by myself, drinking black, Columbian coffee.
        

Poem ID: 3903   Poem Posted: 4/30/1998
Viewed: 23090  Voted On: 375  E-mailed: 109  Commented On: 6
 
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Copyright , April 14, 1998,  all rights reserved by the author.
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