... (XXVI)

Pulled from a memory - but again, just an exercise.

.

.

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The blinds rattle behind the vacuum of her departure

And the sudden emptiness wraps its arms

Around the baseboard corners of my enclosure.

.

It's always the smell that lingers longest -

It that haunts the closet, 

Touches the bedspread 

With its early morning fingers

And the emulsified imprint of new despondence -

.

Her perfume, 

The fragrance of her laundry detergent,

The synesthesia of her laughter

And the teardrop spatter

Painting the walls with the impression of her color.

.

I will miss her;

I announce softly to the ceiling.

I will miss her a lot.

.

And though this feeling won't last forever,

I still prefer it to holding her memory

As a brief, and passing afterthought.

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Author's Note

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-iGnYg4_M8