Toy

The sheets are colder now

Hard and clean

They stagnate

Except at my own touch

I played with air

While you are

Lessening your grip

I floated only to myself

Holding myself tight

In the vacuum

Air squeezing past my cheek

Vacated of warmth

Our dirty secrets left untold

Confessed to air

Actions now mechanical

Audience departed

And now remains

This our beautiful sadness

Our legacy

A testament to dreams

Scattered like a broken

Child's toy

September 2007