Memory Warm Like a Summer Wind

I remember a few,
my memory more frayed
and threadbare each day.
Some of those nights in
their embrace tend to stick
to a man’s weft like
my best old denims’ warp.
But you remain the one
who’ll ever stay on these
empty shelves when all
their histories are dust.
It’ll be your blue eyes
(or were they brown?)
I’ll always see seeking
something I’’d never think
to find in my own.
I still hold the memory
of your warm body and
I dream of how I breathed
you in like a summer wind.
You temper these evenings when
I fall like an autumn leaf
from our sweet near-sleep
into a lonely old man’s
dreamless night.

Poem  based on this week’s prompt from Annie Fuller’s Writing Outside the Lines Challenge. It’s to use this quote–“… I breathed you in like a summer wind …”–in your poem or story. Here you go, Annie.

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