Deterioration

It is the turn of the year
and i am lonely
down to the very marrow
of my bones,
moon-faced,
i am choking
on your smile:

ghosting through
memories of you,
i am a child
fingering through photographs
of years
spent outside the edges
of recollection.
it shocks me
how fast
your face has faded

midninght has dragged me
past another mellow day,
held my hand
as i stole
through the fabric that
glues this world
together

my bones are left
abandoned
beneath pale skin,
hollowed and
hallowed i have carved
your name
upon my ribs,
caged my heart
in the whispers
of you

golden sunstrings
was your hair,
but the blue
of your eyes
has washed
right out of my mind.