By Mark Karpinka karps23@home.com
Date: 30 March 2001
I Can Smell Her on My Pillow
She broke up with me on a Tuesday
when the moon was full...
when the moon was blue.
I thought about many things on my way home... alone...
the time we walked in the rain...
the time we talked until the sun came up...
the time I made her a promise...
the time she told me that she loved me...
that she would love me for...
for...
forever.
When I got home and the door closed behind me,
I knew that I could finally let the tears come.
Such is the curse of being a man.
No one would see me. Not her. Not anybody.
I was alone.
As I cried and cry still
when the moon is full...
when the moon is blue.
I can smell her on my pillow.
She is the scent of strawberries,
sweet, sweet, strawberries.
Dipped in cream
then dipped in sugar
and brought to the lips
yesterday
today
and tomorrow with my unwashed pillow.
Don't you remember?
She told me it was for...
for...
forever.
Mark Karpinka
www.digitalpaperbacks.net
(Author of the ebook, One Shot of Tender)
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