Silhouette

Her body forgot what it was like to
feel the heat lift from his form.
Her mind forgot what it was like to
feel his thoughts comb through her storm.
This girl is a simple silhouette,
An image in his shadows, and yet..
She isn’t silent or still
She isn’t solid or shrill..
She cradles the nearest memory
Within the walls of cob webs and coffee.
Somewhere under all of the sensory
There quietly waits a man with protective armory.

Author's Note

5am thoughts should be written in sand, where they can be safely erased by a 6am spand.