poetry for the poetic: 5

LXXIV

black coffee and soft vibrant flowers
the way your hand runs through the crisp, fall air
the sharp inhalation as i catch my breath
when your bare skin touches mine

pillows that don't know our faces alongside walls that have never heard our voices
glowing morning light seeps beyond the blinds and creeps into the unkempt sheets

the winter will claim you and the dusk, oceanside drives will cease
i'll wave goodbye and say 'i'll see you sometime soon'
but i know it'll be the last

i hold your breath in my lungs five seconds longer and breathe you in deeply
the faint hint of cigarettes and old spice remain
your button up hangs loosely on my weathered neck as i feel the cold rise almost to embrace me.

i pray i'll see you soon. 

but i know i won't.