Jan 152003
 

Her black stockings lie on the floor next to my bed.
Cast aside in a fit of passion, and forgotten the next day.
I found them the day after she left.
Picked them up and laughed, remembered how they got there.
I almost put them in the hamper, but I hesitated.
After a few moments, I put them back where I found them.
Saw them this morning and smiled to myself.
For just a brief moment it was like she was here again.
Maybe she was in the next room taking a shower,
Or sitting on the computer in the family room.
But there was proof of her presence lying on my floor.

I didn’t totally fool myself, though.
I couldn’t smell her.
Couldn’t hear her laughter or see her eyes sparkle.

Sometimes you cling to what you can.

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