"bury him"
she said
but like a phantom limb
severed
yet
i still feel your hands
upon me
rightly so
it was those hands
that said so much
more
with warmth
tenderness
and dare i say
love
they comforted
stroked
or fondled
pressed out my longing
how long
will their
absence
be felt
missing
in the
long ago
war
you know
i hate
they gathered
buried
those withered
remains
still we see
them unearthed
paraded around
in gray
my skin
turns
under the weight
of the
mark-less mark
your hands
felt cupping
perfect
me
i did not imagine
it
like this
ending
I was as
long into
the future
with those
lovely
phantoms
all over me
still
a last breath

pretty quick turnover i would say.