The Goodbye Kiss
Why do those lips
moisten my own - years on?
That labial goodbye, with its embrocate
of memory
returns as a tangible ghost.
A time-traveling incubi latches upon my mind again.
A hummingbirds sip,
a recoil of sensory jack-hammers.
Today, words are meaningless,
lips remain pursed to that goodbye moment.
I did not know it was the end back then, but
it is perfectly clear now -
I am over it.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2021
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