236/365: Intimate Dissociation

blurry nighttime G

I am the nostalgia queen.
One look,
and your face is relegated
to an album I look at when I am old.
I recall your features.
I trace them with inward eyes.
Every breath is my last.
It is a delicious affliction,
an intimate dissociation.
Already,
I have forgotten why I came here.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com