Blueprints

I don’t want to lose your scent.
The faucets running but im tired of washing , tired of waiting
and my issues on letting go have become more habitual than anything else.

your blue room,
your blue sheets
your blue heart is pumping but there is no oxygen,
no life,
no red.

you brush my hair behind my face and kiss the side of my cheek-
and you tell me you’re not pretending but,
standing at the faucet I feel otherwise inclined.

time to shower,
time to move on.

I play Chopin for you-
Nocturne in C Sharp Minor;
I melted into a formless being-
I thought I felt our energies;
bright yellows, a hue of orange,
a sunset.

when we fell asleep I matched your breath.
wrapping charges,
falling into you-
I had (no body.)

I linger to catch your scent-
I choose to remember all lovers this way.
In the distant future I will find myself walking along, and something will remind me of you-
It will catch me off guard and creep in from my feet to my fingertips and I will feel you all over again and the bed sheets will only be a memory and
I will know I will never see you again;
It will cut through me with razor sharp fangs and I will regret never knowing
You.

The contamination spreads and I feel more insecure than ever-
My body polluted with sheet music filled with deception and a man that was never worth my time or my music but-
I feel compelled to tell him that when the violin came to its crescendo,
I thought I knew You,
and I loved you for a fleeting moment-

he only held me close-
he holds all his women that way
I was nothing more than just one of them.