in this homei no longer have sight(the lights are off and we both knownobody is home)

but i will search for you on bended knees through thehalf built house that was raisedaround you and me.

and palms to the wall 
i feel for the gaps and the cracks in the foundationswe hand poured for each otherto stand on -

i can no longer see the framed pictures -memory laced drawings of midnight stories -

of falling asleep with your arms beneath me 
and my hand across your face and my head restedin your collarbones -

of watching the morning sun creep through dawn soaked windows and listening to your breathing, wonderingif you’re still awake -

i am blindly tracing my fingersthrough the darkest corridors of thisabandoned home
crawling through memories,
and smells, and moments, 
(and i’ve never felt this afraid
to be this alone)and i am searching for the epicentre -to remember when the salt 
from our tears rusted the framework 
in the house that we built for each other -

and when i find iti’ll crawl into the 
cold, now damp, crevasse
the shattered space we could never retrace
and if i lie still enoughi can hearbetween drops of rainthe sound of the heart that i loved beating
just the same.