black and white photo: @jseigar
I gave my tongue to you
Loud and silent
Curled between your teeth
It was too much or not enough
My tongue does not tell the stories of your past
Only what is possible
It is just a muscle
Like my heart
Made to expand and contract
When you left the clocks stopped working.
Their hands, my hands, they all forgot to move. I fell asleep to the last of your scent on my pillow and awoke months later in a new season.
I do not recognize the landscape here and all of the trees have changed.