Challenge
Challenge of the Week CXXXIV
Something Lost, Something Found. Write about something that once was lost. Fiction or non-fiction, poetry or Prose.
Somewhere at the Bottom of the Morgue
I rarely miss anyone enough for it to be painful
I miss time
And spaces
And places
And minutes
But the tangible slips
It is leaky-faucet drips
People are context
People are stillborn
Dead-aching
Unmoving
Unyielding
Stagnant
I miss hands and mouths
I mourn words
I mourn touch
I hold funerals for sunbeams that fell through leaves long since passed
You will find me penning epithets to hungry breath lost on cold air
I will leave flowers where music once rang
I will dig holes 6 ft deep for ghosts
And leave the bodies to rot, carrion-feast
And I will drown weightless in their graves as I stitch myself to phantoms
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