time

turns, oscillates and fumbles
to familiar, painful monologues
~ all of which now exists
only in my memory

your scent trapped in the
cadence of our scarring arguments,
of words breathed and whispered
in my slumber

waking, emerging, devouring
my thoughts when i am still
longing for the hurt

if it would mean finding you
in the darkness, if it would mean
finding us after so much has been lost.