Trace
While you still breathedI clung to hope
Not with my arms, not even with my heart,
But with a single cell which still contained
The trace of you.
It could never, ever
Be erased,
It was a part of me, my incurable infection.
Nothing could sterilise or cauterise
The trace of you.
In quiet times
Solitude crushing me
My mind would delve deep inside
Reaching, seeking, that tiny germ,
That trace of you.
But now I know
The world has lost you now,
I listened, but the breath has stilled.
That single cell has lost its spark,
Its trace of you.
Now all that's left
Is the skeleton frame
I used to hold my body erect
While nursing in my empty soul
The trace of ....
Poetry by Marie Cadavieco
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Written on 2019-05-04 at 19:49
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Lawrence Beck |