I take my place in the dark,

And your memory comes to me, unbidden.

Beckoning me,

To remember long-ago places,

Where memories lie,

Sleeping the sleep of the dead.

Where you offered me, as a man, a promise.

A promise of fates intertwined.  

A promise of stolen kisses.

A promise of comfort in your arms.

A promise to sow seeds and wait for them to grow.

A realization that they never will.

And in the silence,

I realize,

The spaces you leave,

From your empty promises,

Have their own things to say.

And I bury your memory again.

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