She carried his memory with her-
wore it like a necklace.

It was
embe dded in her body-
every place he had touched-
issued silent body sighs
asking her to go back to him,
to have him touch her that way again.

It was her he'd kissed
her loins, her heart, all caressed-
all made love to
by him.

She would have forgotten
but her body did not
-could not.

Her body had melted in the hot;
rose again  and again
in the bubbling up
to remind her of what it missed.
..
She sometimes times would imitate
his touch
but her body was not consoled.

She could have her mind
imagine his touch
but the mind was not good enough
to compare with the real thing.

She over-reacted on city streets when
people bumped  her accidentally;
another body close
caused memories to stir..

She held her books close;
placed them flat against her breasts

absent-mindedly
to emulate his touch.

She slept in a ball to gain warmth
from her own thighs
held close to her.

She was an open book.
Every page missed him.

Her mind could not focus
amid those body cries
coming in the still night.

She could not see
in her midnight stumblings
wandering her own room
blind body seeking
trembling heart seeking
what it remembered
but no longer had.

Body rules the night
and mind rules the day
but night-time lasts an eternity
and knows how to cry.

She reached for the phone.
It was a call. Only a call.

Just to hear his voice and then she would hang up.
Maybe that would reduce the yearning between her legs.

Just a little thing.
She set aside the little toys she had bought unused.
Maybe they would help; maybe not.
But not now.

Her hand was attached to her body
and her body took charge
directed the hand, dialing the number,
butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach.
Breath  bated, not breathing, she was riveted
awaiting the sound of his voice.
It came with a big 'hello'

But
But, it was only the answering machine.
She relaxed listening to every syllable. 'I am not here right now but I would like to know that you called. Leave your name and number and I will get back to as soon as I can'

Even his voice mail message made her remember his caring;
hearing  'I will get back to you as soon as I can.'

He was like that. He was always willing, willing to meet you half-way in everything. He made love that way too. He was the giver and she was the taker.

Before him she had been with Bart.
Bart the Taker. He took out of bed
and he took in bed.
He never gave out of bed and he never gave in bed either.
Bart left you empty and then rolled over and went to sleep.

So she became a taker, saying that she would not be taken from again like that.

So she took from Joel
because she felt it was her turn
and he was so willing to give.
He gave and he gave and she took.
The day came he ceased wanting to give
grew tired of of her demands, of her  traffic cop attitude in bed
and was gone. Didn't answer phone calls.
Avoided her, offered only silence.

She hung up trying slowly
with her hand
trying
to send him the message through the hung-up phone
that she had changed-
that she was now able to give..

But he was not there to see,
or to hear her,
to feel the change that she had achieved.
Taking too much
had left her empty.
and giving
even when she wanted to
did not feel real
even when she desperately
wanted to.