Ghost arms

I only have his shirt
The last part of him I kept
His fragrance still lingers
My arms snake around my waist
The fabric the last part off him on my skin
My head dips to the side
I miss leaning my temple on the crook of his neck
My fingers dig into my waist, missing his bigger hands
My teeth scrape over my lip as memories assail me
I press the collar to my nose and inhale
My eyes close and tears sting the back of my eyes
What I wouldn’t give to have him hold me one last time
To have real arms around me and not ghosts of lovers embrace.


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