I miss her rough hands, and the quick,
The tender stares with her,
Trying to lighten my dark heart.
The freckles on her back and arms were the
That formed my intimate Universe.
My starry night.
And I explored her skies for ages.
I knew them well.
I could blossom exploding quasars in her mind,
Such pulsing intensity.
Gifts from a learned hand and loving mind.
She was my eclipse.
I did not deserve to witness such splendor,
Over and over.
Wonders such as her,
They dim in the mind,
Like the moon when it wanes.
But memories are lovely still,
Even as comets.