Memory Foam


None of his words, she memorized.

She didn’t have to. They were printed on her skull. She can recite them anytime.

Almost as if She can find his hand prints in random places. Her lungs. Her thighs. Shoulders. Mind. His fingerprints left at the scene of the crime.

Her neck permanently tilted from sleeping with her head on his chest. The outline of his face, carved between her breast.

Her hips still adjusted to the width of his waist. Laying across him, covering every inch like the stars in space.

Her toes curl up like they did behind his knee cap. Her back still arched from sitting in his lap.

Her arm always twists like its wrapping around the sides of this man. Their arms laced together like a beautiful long band. Her fingers still curved like they’re holding his hand.

The butterflies are dead. The Stars have fallen. But her body has not forgotten.
Thought she’d forget when he was long gone.

She didn’t notice until she was alone.
Her whole entire being was nothing more than Memory Foam.