Do You Still?

He'll always be

A persistent ache,

though the ragged edge

has healed,

one tiny sliver

at a time.

Like a stone,

caressed by

incessant waves,

whose edges get

smooth, over time.

Now, when she allows

the memories,

they're an embrace,

not the stab of regret

that used to come.

Wistful, she can still see

his gaze

hungry eyes

feel the giddy leap

of her young heart.

Again, warm hands,

mapping the lines and curves

of her body,

the long

s l o w

kisses

which left her

dizzy,

scrambled

and

reaching for more.

She sighs.

They once

loved 

big,

powerful

and

forbidden

no thought to resisting.

But now

Does he sit there like this,

In a rumpled bed

Alone,

and remembering?

This is a magpie tale.