the damage's weight

ghoststrokes

down the back

of a dead arm

twist response

in fever sleep

jars electric

refusal

deep in a

tender socket.

the weight

of impotence

and some

distant potential

measured in tiny

steps, baby

steps.

even this mess

of muscle,

bone & metal,

can't stop the haunt

of dark eyes

and dark hair

at my bedside.

_____

unsleep

is the hardest

part of

recovery.

unsleep

and the silent

stalking

of helplessness,

uselessness,

in every

dark corner.

they said

it was your

name

i called

when i

came to.

who is he?

he's not here

they said,

and i knew

i was awake.

_____

i wanted to know

if you knew.

it's so easy t0

tell the immediate

fears, the forthright

fright of

a situation like facing

some familiar

demon.

too many of those

stories sound

and end the same.

i can't reach

you;

i can't reach

for you.

and that's the only

thing at the front

of my mind.

_____

when you

finally

talk to me,

i'll be so

tired

it won't

matter what

you say,

just that

you

said it.

_____

chocolate curls

cavernous dimples

peals and ripples

perfect laughter

green-grass

little boy smell

hot small fingers

pudgy arms

wriggle around

my neck soft

eager baby

kisses nuzzles

jerked awake

empty arms

dead arm

bed of cold sweat

your face on my

eyelids

no escape in

the dark

_____

i miss most

the deep velvet

of your voice

and the sound

of your laugh

in the dark.

the times you'd

believe me

when i'd say

i love you.

that was never

the lie.