constructing poetry

sleeping without you

they took the rest of you
away from me,
buried it deep
and thought I had lost.
they were wrong.
the memory of you
surrounds me
a constant wisp of color
at the edge of sight, a subtle
tune that pulls
at my ears until
I can’t move
without you.

the echo of you
wakes me, the constant
beeping of the monitors
has filled our home
for so long that I hear it still and
rise to search you out,
but true glimpses
escape me.

I haven’t touched
our bed. for too long
it was your prison
and I, the warden
of your comfort and health
regulated myself
to catnaps
and a sterilized mask.
I feel naked without it now,
as I sit and watch
your empty bed.
as soon as I turn away,
I feel you there.

at night, when I
close my eyes,
the essence of you
lingers near
and I see you, bending
to kiss my forehead
as I have kissed yours.
I can feel
the pressure of your lips
smell a hint
of your perfume,
wafting down the hall.

please, come a little closer.
let me touch you once again.

line count: 48

Prompt for: April 24, 2016 ▼

Subject or Theme: Ghosts...real or as in a memory of someone lost...a wisp, a feeling...
Word(s) to Include: essence, wisp, hint, waft (or any derivatives of these words)
Forbidden Word(s): ghost, love, dead, death, dying, grave, cemetery, haunted, house (or any derivatives, compound or hyphenations of these words)
Additional Parameters: Minimum of 36 lines, non-rhyming
Remember, do not use forbidden words ANYWHERE, including title or the brief description.