Our Goodbye

Sometimes, I find myself
thinking about our goodbye

and the loneliness that rings these bones
like plague bells now that you’ve gone.

These days, there is a void in these bones you used to fill,
but, now, it roams this body like an unanchored sigh,
searching for a harbour or a home.

I know I shouldn’t think of you this way anymore,
but, from time to time, I do.

I guess I’m just hoping you can tell me
how to reconcile myself with the fact
that I miss you to the core,

but that I’m simultaneously
beginning to forget
how your lips felt against mine.

© 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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