Home Builder

 i built a bird box

yesterday

i wanted to make

a home

for something 

other than words

are you in love 

again, yet?

i keep thinking

about your palms

placed 

on my chest

and where they may

be resting, now.

i've spent 

a lifetime

building shrines

and temples

to things

that cannot, and simply will not

love me back, 

you chief among them.

i try to keep my hands busy; to distract them from the distance between my bones and yours. The truth is every part of me remembers you; remembers the weight of your touch.

i want to make a home for something other than these god forsaken memories, but it all keeps finding its way to you. It always has, and i fear it always will.