A poem about you

NaPoWriMo #22 ekphrastic poem

And I stood there,
in the aisle of chipped yellow walls
rummaging through my thick skin,
about the last night.

the light of lovemaking,
the night of kisses and cigars,
how soft your body felt,
topaz like sunshine caressing my neck,

long afternoons of summer drinks and clouds tearing away,
something hung from the lampshades of my garden,
a memory, a perspiring flower of nostalgia.
I often walked like planets dancing on the earth,
thinking about you and your scars,
your love,
your shaded memory of vignette touch.
Everything is a dead-end, an endgame.

I always waited for you,
counting your time on my twenty fingers.
Envelopes of sequined eye gazing your arrival,
it happened in winters,
it happened in summers,
it happened again and again.
a chiseled knot of survival.

And now, I am done.
My body sweats like your skin did once,
chipping the bedsheets of nostalgia
Often I eat my own mind full of you,
trying to stick a mannequin inside my pharynx.

No, I do not wither away,
I am not a sunflower dying,
Ephemeral nights talk to me in a decent language,
slipping a thought of voice hidden somewhere.

You do not still evaporate from my orange lit mind,
you burn there, a lamp in a swamp,
feeding onto my naval of thousand skies.
I watch you there each day,
I do not speak.
I do not speak.
I sit and count you melting.