sometimes
words elude me
there’s bitter
on my tongue
for days
sometimes nights
i can’t explain
the way it is
ways i’ve forgotten
how to feel
tho lately you are near
and i can dream
of pages
where the pages end
lines to circumvent
ages
where my memory remains
folded into blankets
high upon a shelf
where once you were –
and i was yours
this way

. . .