Elizabeth Ann

I looked at my hands
Why couldn’t they do the things you loved?
They loved you
And not even stuffed far down in my pockets of my unwashed jeans
Nor shoved underneath the cold side of the pillows on my bed
Could they forget
They always seemed to somehow remember
You
Just you
My other lovers
They slipped
Right thru
For some reason, their skin didn’t take to mine like yours did
You don’t remember me
But I’m writing you this
My voice, is just words now
But you can’t hear me any way
Someone must have cut off your ears while you were sleeping