Between the Blades of Grass You Are Missing

Night air like a silk glove shushing the cheek.
Sometimes I fit your hand inside to save me from

A hollow June. Laughter from the party next door
Severs the light, or maybe it's the shadows that trees let fall

Like their second selves, too much to bear alone in the dark.
I could lie among them, forgetting mine, but who would be left

Standing when you finally return? No matter how much
Memory I bite off my lips, your half-moon of matte lipstick

Always remains. Let's never empty our mouths of our names.
I write and rewrite yours into my skin. Please remember me.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem

This Poems Story

Tom Kozlowski is a senior at the College of New Jersey studying political science and English. His poem is inspired by Julia Cohen and Federico Garcia Lorca and owes its dedication to Kalyani Parwatkar.