A warm velvet imprint
sunk into my skin tender and easy as dough
where your hand touched my back
From that moment
there where months
where I let its softness
creep over my chest
A ghost of fingers that bent and moved me
clapping my heart raw
raising my hopes in the air
for a question that went unanswered
The handprint faded
pink to gray and pealed away
it wheezed some incoherent goodbye at my feet
Leaving nothing more than that murmur
and a burnt welt
I slung it what was left of your handprint over
a wire hanger pressed
between trusted winter coats
and the wall
On cold days
I wear it like a glove
*needs better title!
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