In Memoriam

You are text and subtext, my sound and my caesura,

The verdant meadows of adolescent summers,

And the fallow fields of a dreamless winter.

You are sigh and gasp and bated breath and I

Your restless child and somnolent woman.

You keep a home in the curve of my earlobe,

In the scar on my wrist, in the white of my fingernails.