a poem in tears

i close my eyes
i fold my hands
and touch my chest
i imagine
his body
wrapped around mine
our feet brushing gently
against each other
i imagine that
i touch his neck,
his birth marks,
one brown, one strawberry red,
i imagine
kissing his beautiful
stupid tattoo
i hated and then loved so much.
i imagine
touching his hair,
which he grew
just a little, just for me
even though he preferred to cut
to the chase and shave it all off.
i imagine
touching his belly,
his beard,
his cheek
ever so softly.
i imagine our love.
i imagine
our shared desire.
we were crazy
about each other.
.. tears.
silent streams.
why am i doing this to myself
i wonder.
stop!
why are you doing this to yourself?
you must not.
you must stop.
but what's the alternative?
forget?

never.