My memory of you is like the warmth

Of water flowing over my skin.

Standing amidst the sterile white and tile,

I smooth you over my face,

And run you through my hair.

Your warmth cleanses my sorrow

And I am comforted by the ghost of you.

Gently I sift you through my fingers

And watch, mesmerized, as you drip from the tips

I mix you with the fragrant liquid and recall

Your hands upon my skin.

In ecstasy of touch and movement,

My eyes close and I am taken in by you.

You drip from my breasts and cling to my toes

Your essence caresses me and fades away,

Pulled by gravity down into the drain and pipes

And I step out of the shower and wrap you around me.

The towel becomes your arms and chest -

Your head bent down to mine,

Your lips caressing my neck.

Softly, you fade away into my day until

I revisit you again in the sensation of memory.