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I can feel you,
ghosts of fingertips
on top of skin
sweat-kissed,
puckering in the air
of an open window

I can feel you,
dents in the mattress
scented in the creases,
dented from the weight.
When one has gone the
other stays, is patient

I can feel you,
the gnawing on exposed
limbs bent in all directions.
Eyes wide, still hungry and
waiting
for another taste of

you. I can feel
the blood-pulse, the rush
and the push of things.
It's swirling, dizzying--
teeth exposed, grinning
stupidly, wonderfully

I can feel you
when you're gone
when you come, go
when you return.

Where there is nothing
I can feel you.