Fault-y Memory


there was a moment

when I longed only

to hold your worn

chambray shirt

close to my nose

breathe your

lingering scent

deep into my lungs

memorize you

with hungry eyes

every line of your face

painted delicately against

my closed lids

sculpt your shape

with my hands

on tousled plum sheets

warm from our bodies


to remember every detail

of you

now that you are gone

inexplicably scratching

an itch for freedom

your next great adventure

I rue the hours

spent carving you

crystal clear

upon the glass

of my memory

I count grains of sand

as they fall

into my hourglass

longing for the arrival of

the forgetting time


© 2018 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved

9 thoughts on “Fault-y Memory

  1. I was just (really, in the past half hour) thinking of along past lost (even if not quite requited and consummated) love, the one I think of when I read the words, “I was a child and she was a child in a kingdom by the sea”, or hear the song, “Girl From The North Country” (though that applies better to another) and then there is this. Wow!


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