House

On restless nights,
she dreams.

Details, nuances,
long buried, forgotten.
Now vivid and fresh
as yesterday.

Warmth spreads through her limbs,
soft stings of ache at her breasts.
She carries him deep inside
like a secret.

Startling how the mind forgets,
chases the imagery away,
but the body innately remembers.

He'd pinion her outstretched hands,
holding her captive.
A sense of retreat, just a flutter
of uncertainty.
Soft lips descending
with all the finality of a death sentence.

Now he is miles away.
She wonders if her mind will thrust
its tentacles of diseased energy towards him,

if a pebble might blow in his path
and he might think of her,
for no reason at all
but the wind deemed it so.

For now she'll wrestle with feelings
that memory inspires within her.

The body can be a cruel place
in which to house the mind.