I lay here in solitary, velvet, blackness and

                                        with every breath feel the last remnants of

                                                your scent pulsing in my body. I sprawl 

                                                under sheets grown cold and too much space.

                A hole in one wall, a screaming memento of

                                                excessive passion, your moans echo in my mind.

                                                The Gibraltarian door of our emotions could not be breached

                                                so we would discover new kinds of ecstacy instead.

                Now this abode is a black hole for new emotions,

                                                I am a ghost in my own life, walking next to your

                                                memory. When I leave, these dreams of you still

                                                cling to me like smoke. Quit calling, quit coming around.

               I remember the day you left me, blue eyes deep as the 

                                               Atlantic, stormy, and flashing. Your raven black hair falling

                                               across your face as your hand fell across mine. Red hot fury 

                                               spewing forth from our mouths as we screamed, “fuck you.”