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I hold my head in my hands
and begin to think,
attempt to recollect,
the last,
good,
memory of you.

Awaking  
with your body
still close to mine.

Pretending
to be asleep
when I know that you
are watching me.

Running fingers
through your hair
and waiting
for your happy-cat smile.

All of them
are decent thoughts,
but nothing sparks.
Nothing reminds me
of that painful love
that went away
some time ago.

I can only remember
your excuses falling,
brick-like,
against my head
and arguments burning,
aching my failing love,
erasing
the last,
good,
memory of you.
.
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October 23, 2010
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