His Shirt
a poem of longing
A long and quiet afternoon,
A furtive slip behind a door,
I pull a simple cotton shirt
From the bottom dresser drawer.
--
My flushing cheeks caress it,
And no matter how I try,
As much as I inhale its scent,
I can’t be satisfied.
--
His smell, his voice, his striking air
Wash through my beating breast
Intangible and fleeting,
To this pain I can attest.
--
I slip it on and hug myself,
Recalling his willing touch.
My skin erupts in goose bumps.
The yearning becomes too much.
--
How cruel it is to have such tokens
That arouse and tease the senses,
Rekindling an obsession
To which there are no defenses.
--
In habitude I close my eyes,
Summoning his face.
With each breath, it recedes and fades,
Leaves heartache in its place.
--
The shirt goes back into the drawer.
I smooth it with my palm.
Bittersweet these memories,
An evanescent balm.
About the Creator
Nora Novak
I'm all over the place. But that's my charm, n'est-ce pas?
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
Comments (4)
Absolutely beautiful. I felt every line of this wonderful poignant poem
Love the theme and topic of this. Well done!
Beautifully written piece. Well done.
Moving and sensuous. Great job to relate the senses to emotions. 🥰