the memory of that ache, love gone taut,
like a good exhaustion,
unravels backward,
so it might as well have been for always
I knew you deep to the rawness of your bones
and my mother said when she listened close,
she could all but hear the love coming off us,
electric and golden like a streetlamp humming after midnight
even after you left you still talked to me, still friends,
about new happiness, new sadness
eyes wide, hands shaking, a smudged look about you,
like ink left in a brief soft rain
whatever it was that bound us,
whatever grabbed so tight and held so long,
left bruises on my heart you can see through the skin
sometimes I let you mold your fingertips into them
leave deeper marks, grooves like climbing holds
when I put my hand over my chest
my heart hiccups over those ridges, stopping for just a moment
but I’m still alive,
as long as you are, I’ll be

Kate LaDew is a graduate from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro with a BA in Studio Arts.  She resides in Graham, North Carolina with her cat, Charlie Chaplin.