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When I think about you, I think about your shoulders.
I picture them underneath your shirt – skin stretched over muscle stretched over bone. I see them as I stood behind you – you going about your life, me watching in wonder as you stood in your space, your arms swinging ’round, so alive, so beautiful, just so…
A Love Story
I feel them as I touched you, as I reached for you & pulled you to me – you coming forward so willingly. Two bodies together on a street corner, my head tucked beneath your chin & smiles on our faces. I feel my hands on your back. I don’t want to let go, but we pull apart & walk away knowing it was a beginning.
I feel you as we lay shoulder to shoulder with skin touching skin. My face turned up to look into yours. The lines of honest conductivity tied as we drift into sleep. Even the bones in our bodies were giggling – they knew that we are the lucky ones.
I see your shoulders lifting & holding. I see them moving. I see them shifting as your arms sway at your sides.
Then I see them as you were, as you stood there in my living room, your face pale, & your shoulders square. You standing, giving nothing away, your voice strong & even.
I hear you – all of my fears falling out of your mouth like bile as you tear it apart, as your rip our lives into separateness. I see you as I say over & over “please don’t leave” – a meaningless mantra, a waste of breath.
I knew you were leaving. I could see it in the set of your shoulders.
Your body, which had once been open to me, angled away from me as I pulled you into a hug, my head tucked beneath your chin while you stayed a million miles away.
Your arms fall away, your hand is on the door & I can’t help but to ask you one more time. My voice waivers. You stay strong. I whisper “I will miss you” & you say “goodbye” as you pull the door closed behind you. I see your silhouette as you walk away, your shoulders so square & broad, skin stretched over muscle stretched over bone.
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