love · poetry

To miss a thing you may have lost. 

Rocking. Forward, backward. Forward again. Back again. Hair flows onto my face, brushing my cheek. And I rock. Forward. Backward. It’s rhythmic. But I am not soothed

Clutching. Holding. Clutching a pillow to my chest. Holding it. Digging into it. Clutching and rocking back and forth, back and forth, as the hair falls into my face, brushing my cheek. I rock, I clutch. Rock. Clutch. 

I’m crying. Tears falling. Down my checks onto my pillow. I’m clutching and rocking, wet with tears, as the hair brushed my cheeks. Back and forward. Back and forward. Again and again. Sobbing and clutching and rocking. 

Deep breathing and sobbing. Clutching and rocking. 

.……………… forward 

And backward .………………

Backward .………………

.……………… and forward

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