NaPoWriMo13: The Search Party

He dissolved into himself one day
when the flavour of her name
faded on his tongue.

His bones became searchlights,
wandering the silent streets of his body
for the graffiti of her touch,

he made wishes on every star
that shone on the insides of his eyes
like the freckles on her nose

and he was stunned by every stuttering streetlight,
trembling like the doubt that made her leave.

He would rise to the surface of himself in slow drifts,
his aching chest an alley too empty to fill,
and ring the bells of his lungs
until he was nothing but an echo of a man.

He taught us all about longing
and how it can destroy someone –
like some impatient thunder –

as delicious as it may seem
at first.

© Keighley Perkins

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About handshedown

Keighley Perkins is a Cardiff-based poet whose influences include Anis Mojgani, Selima Hill and Richard Brautigan. Her work has previously been published in "Acumen", "Elbow Room", "Erbacce", "Fire", "Northwind" and "Obsessed with Pipework". She can also be found online on Twitter at @handshedown. View all posts by handshedown

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