The Violation

Her tears fade
the ash
On my skin
As my knuckles
Grazed her cheek,
lips,
jaw.
flashbacks
to memories
never intended
to exist.
Flashback to a clock
On the dresser
In a room---
Sighted from the ground up:

IS
HE



IS
SHE



DONE
YET?



My tears
Dilute
The scent
left by lotion
painted on the back of her hand.
she believes
I shed tears
over the intrusion
I became victim of----
memories stowed in my chest.
Reality knows
I shed tears
In remembrance of hers,
although
I know
I was never there.
Was not aware.
But now
I am
And we cry,
r e m e m b e r i n g.