I Felt Your Shape

I thought I felt your shape, but I was wrong,

Really all I felt was falsely strong.

I held on tight,

I 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 your breathing,

I felt the rise and the fall of your chest.

I felt your Fall,

Your Winter snows,

Your gusty blows,

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 depth

I don't think I ever felt.

But I don't know,

My nights are cold

I remember warmth,

I could have sworn I wasn't alone.