the ghost of you still dips my mattress with a warmth I reach for but never achieve – I wake from a sleep that made me forget that you’re no longer within my reach.

No Poem Is the Only Poem. No Story Is the Only Story. No Kings.
the ghost of you still dips my mattress with a warmth I reach for but never achieve – I wake from a sleep that made me forget that you’re no longer within my reach.