He’s got you on his shelf dusted with care. You’re out – front and center – you can’t be missed. I see you clear as day and can only assume he means to keep you close in that way. A memory honored until the bitter end.

He’s got me in his bed, moist and ready for his attention. I’m present, but packed up and hidden; a kind of embarrassing truth to his current existence. I’m kept at arms length – just close enough to feel some warmth, but not close enough to feel the commitment of his arms around me.

I look in the mirror and wonder who he loves more…
your memory or my body.