I thought I felt your shape but I was wrong,
Really all I felt was falsely strong.
I held on tight and closed my eyes,
It was dumb; I had no sense of your size.
It was dumb to hold so tight.
But last night on your birthday in the kitchen,
My grip was loose, my eyes were open.
I felt your shape and heard you breathing,
I felt the rise and fall of your chest.
I felt your fall,
Your winter snows,
Your gusty blow,
Your lava flow.
I felt it all:
Your starry night,
Your lack of light.
With limp arms I can feel most of you.
I hung around your neck independently
And my loss was overwhelmed
By this new depth I don't think I ever felt.
But I don't know
My nights are cold.
And I remember a warmth...
I could have sworn
I wasn't alone.