Tattooed Soul
Your name is a tattoo on my soul
stitches of golden thread that sew
up the fibers of my soul. Who would
I be without you? I'll never know, now.
Your name leaves me in jagged breaths
and sullen smiles. I'd call it pain but
I love it too much, this knowing you.
a courteous sort of grief envelopes
your memory and I'm floating atop
some puffy solace. Never mine and
always mine, your name is a curling
wave, a salty shower spraying
me with its might and its mercy.
The sunshine and surf blur the distinction
of tears and spray, thankfullness and mourning
the mark of your name a graying ink
that an ocean of days will not erase.
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