Aftertaste by Bader A. Shehab

The contour of your skin,
The bent arches of your neck muscles
Protruding into the silence of the night.
The curvature of your cheek bones
angling light
At distorting refractions.

The temperate sounds of your breath,
Humming molecules into sleep.
The splendidly fixated arm,
On a lucky patch of silk,
worshiping your shape,
Into a permanent
but temporary state.
It drunk your skin,
At every bend it did,
I swear I could,
Feel the air,
Condense in the heat
Of your playing eyes
As they scan your feet.
the dimming lights
Upon your
polished toe nails.
Just when I held you
and lost my sense,
The kiss that was once my bid,
Now, turned to an aftertaste of farewell.
Now, I hold all of you,
In a simple clutch
of your once favorite mug.

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