Voice Imprint
If you remember the sound of my voice,
I'll always be near. You'll see me
in your mind's eye as you walk along
the beach, the sand between your toes,
the surf rinsing your skin. You'll taste
my kiss in sips of Chianti and smell the sweat
of our play,
like the heavy scent of jasmine in bloom.
And when you lie awake at night,
alone between cool cotton sheets,
reach out to touch the empty space
I once occupied, and know that
the soft whisper you hear
is more than just a summer breeze
pushing through the branches of a dead tree.
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This is so nice, particularly the last five words.
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