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about one hundred years ago
or three years
or just yesterday
I lay in your bed
smelling the indent and the roll
of your dream life when I am not
trying to look through your eyes
into your soul
About one hundred years ago
or three years
or just yesterday
I stood over your bed
stripping the sheets
smelling where you lived and breathed
all those nights and days
we should have been making memories
now folded away
About one hundred years ago
or three years
or just yesterday
I smoothed the mattress clear
of the weight you inhabited and
little traces curled here and there
persisting to remind me
of the way the moon lit
your sleeping face
now you will always have your eyes closed
maybe now you can see
the shapes of angels
watching over you until
it is my turn and I come to find
if you have been waiting all this time
a year, a month, a day
one hour is too long
without looking into your eyes
to see what I love reflecting back
like dark diamonds capturing stars
will wink out
and there you are