I carry your pieces. Brief moments that I have collected and stored in the base of my memory. The way your ribs feel under my fingers. The warmth from the base of your spine. How your eyes are bluest in the mornings. I hold tight to remember. To lock into memory how you felt in my arms on mornings before the sun broke through the blinds.
I carry your pieces because I won’t always have you.
I carry your pieces because I know I can’t be with you.
I carry your pieces because I am better without you.