Nostalgia is nicotine
inhaled with abandon.
Stretched on a blanket
you glowed
enveloped in mid summer sun
hand almost touched yours
skin ached with absence.
The tension was tender
as an open mouth.
To know what
I know now
is a rose in my heart
chopped at the root.
I smell the memory
its aroma sharp and sudden
warm like a candle
spiked as a cactus.
I let it swim through my thoughts
but I don’t grasp it.
I release
whoever you may now be
to the present moment
and give myself
back to myself.
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