I Follow You With a Broken Heart

I follow you with a broken heart,
peering around corners and over fences,
looking through the cracks in your blinds,
through the key hole in your door,
I sit where you sat,
and smell the clothes you leave behind,
I trace your tiny footsteps,
and wonder what you were thinking
       as your feet fell nonchalantly there,
I listen for your breath,
and smile when I catch your voice on the wind,
aching to taste the words that once perched
       upon your tongue,
I trace the banister in your building with my fingers,
hoping to feel some vanished touch,
as if I can hold your hand through the polished metal
       when only mine is reflected now,
I am always behind you,
and each person you meet twists inside me
       like the dagger in my soul,
the blood of which seeps from my eye’s corner
       to fall as a tear in the dark where no one can see.

4.4.2011