When I listen

I feel you in the whisper of air along the bare length of me. I hear you in the creak of the bedsprings, the hollow smack of the headboard against the wall. The memory of you is loudest with my eyes closed.


16 responses to “When I listen

  1. Always…the memory are always loudest then.

  2. You nailed it. Memories can be deafeningly painful. Really nice write!

  3. wow, there’s a lot going on there!

    • Hi Guapo! Thanks for swinging by. 🙂 I just realized you have a new blog and plan to check it out! Any chance I can convince you to come hang out on the gargleblaster grid at yeah write sometime? It’s only 42 words……. 🙂

  4. Ohhhhhhhh! Remembering is always bittersweet, at least it is to me (and your writing hit the nail precisely). This was fantastic, Christine!

  5. I’m not sure if I would envy or pity anyone who can’t relate to the bittersweet beauty here. Perfect words are perfect, Christine, I love this.

  6. Something smacks of winning here! This was the best. Tell me this was something you worked over and over again in your brain and on paper. Otherwise, you are simply a genius.

  7. This is so ghostly and so beautiful–I love it!

  8. KymmInBarcelona

    Love the title leading in, and that fabulous first sentence. Beautiful imagery.

  9. So bittersweet and beautiful, Christine!

  10. I think you’re a genius either way! This was so so vivid as an emotion and a sensation – I could feel the lump in my throat and the constriction in my heart. The hollow smack. Wow.

  11. So sensual. Such a beautiful evocation.

  12. Love the confessional second person here, Christine. I think your entry could be the epilogue to Arden’s.

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