Thirty seven breathes

April 30, 2014

My love,



All of these years, 

I can still feel you;

all the trees still look like you.

All the books speak your voice,

drawing me deeper in.

And on a few moonlit mornings,

I swear you’re still gently waking me up.





We don’t talk anymore,

and I don’t get to see your face except on the computer screen.

But the last time you touched my face seems like last week.

How is it possible that I love you more now than our last sleep?

Thirty-seven breathes…





I still can’t wait to tell you of all I meet within myself.

I still wake up excited to tell you about my dreams.

You may not know it,

but these days of mine I still share with you.

All of these days, all of these years,

I still feel you.




11 Responses to “Thirty seven breathes”

  1. fatimasque said

    Heart touching. Beautifully painful

  2. This is very evocative and I know that feeling so well – one of still loving the one who is gone……poignant.

  3. joanna said

    Poignant indeed. This touched a nerve within me. Well done

  4. Beautiful poem. If art is creating feelings in others, you have succeeded.

  5. vivid imagery,

    love the honesty in it.


  6. Annie said

    I love this. 37 in all things

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