The fingerprints

May days poetry- Number seven.

                      The fingerprints

I washed the blankets and I washed the sheets. I opened the Window wide and the damn cold air awoke my memory of you. On a September night in the Fall, you brought your clothing, your toothbrush and your womanly things into my house. You promised me forever and I remember you, laying nude on my bed, waiting for me to fall into your skin, your mouth and those dark brown eyes. I saw the tapestry of chaos in your smile. I knew you were just seeking shelter and I was the safest place you could find.

Now the March cold days are here. You had packed your clothing, tossed away the old toothbrush and left your womanly things abandon in my bathroom. You gave me a lasting kiss and you walked out the door. You didn't look back as the street stole your memory away from me.

Now I put the womanly things in a box and every item I touched. I feel your hands dancing upon my skin. I told the night, damn the fingerprints stuck upon my skin, my mouth and my mind. I remembered your pale skin and your wanting words. Johnnie, love is loan kisses and midnight dances. No-one can love forever. We are too greedy and we always want more and more.

Now I am surrounded by a million fingerprints. Now the million words said in just,  make me want to escape. I looked to the rising moon and I told her. I knew Jenny would, I knew Jenny was myth and tale. I wanted to taste pain, sweat and the deadly sweetness of her mouth, I wanted to fall into the warmth of her soft skin and I knew. Those dark brown eyes would break my heart one day.

Now I am trying to erase days and nights of the her. And I know. Tattoos fingerprints on yearning skin, willing kisses received are permanent scars remembered. We become a leftover memory on the white walls of rooms that keep our secrets.

The fingerprints are everywhere and I see them dancing around me. I tell the night. Thank you for teaching me the sweet hello and the deadly goodbye. I know we must know both to had lived.

Coyote

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Deadly goodbyes leave great pain in their wake. Give the heart a kicking. Not easy to forget. Even years later coming back to haunt us. A sad tale. What a contrast between a sweet hello and a deadly goodbye. Thank you Coyote. Kind hearts don't leave with a deadly goodbye. Heartbreak here.

Chriis

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Chris. The deadly goodbye are never forgotten.

[Paul Bell]

Some just leave that imprint that can't be erased.
Sometimes this lets you loose on the world to put your own imprint out there, though that little memory still lingers.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are right Paul and thank you for reading and the comment. I do appreciate.

[Patricia Wedel]

Knowing both to have lived... is easy on my mind... the rhyme of passion... where kisses tell a tale of surrendering under a full Moon and lingering like lavender blue dreams. tenderly, Pat

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Pat for reading and the comment. Moon and the lavender dreams, we do need.

[Azifwecare]

"love is loan kisses and midnight dances". Romantic but sad words that ring true. The mention of fingerprints took a slightly (same but different) meaning for me because
of the lyrics to a song I'd heard once by R Dean Taylor "ghost in my house".

*Little did I realize at the time my special someone was telling me goodbye before he actually said the words.

Loved your poem, Coyote. I'm glad I got to read it. And remind myself that same lesson :
"teaching me the sweet hello and the deadly goodbye. I know we must know both to had lived".

[Coyote Poetry]

We do learn the sweetness of love and the pain of the goodbye. Thank you for reading and the comment my friend.

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

Oh my
Oh my
Oh wow
Words cannot express how this made me feel
I had a few different love affairs several years after splitting up in 2oo5 from my marriage
This brought it back
Thanks 🙏
Beautiful write
Love Leonard Cohen too !

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Julie. I lived in the eighties and the nights of the one night stands. Love was always a chance and very dangerous.

[Julie McCarthy (juliespenhere)]

Thanks coyote
I lived in the eighties but was married busy having kids miscarriages Getting married etc a big decade for me lots of growing up etc