You held me with strong arms
and pale words that soothed like shadows.
You were cold and beautiful and barren
in the void of so many others who meant nothing,
were nothing, so I held on tight, held on fast,
grasping quick with burnt fingers.
I miss you, miss even your sharp eyes,
your searching words, your vacancy.
Did I ever tell you?
Did you ever know?
That some nights your words
were all the color I could see.