deepundergroundpoetry.com

Loss

after loss
there is no replacing
there is a forever void
where they were
no one's hand will ever fit the same
the timber of their voice
an almost inaudible echo

seems so wrong
when one has touched you
in the most profound ways
our mental ability
to hold on
gets blurry too soon

(like that of a newborn
you hold and carry them
until they can walk
memory of their
smallness escapes
before we have time to
acknowledge it)
jemac
Written by jemac
Published
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