Decathect

by Diane DeCillis

to withdraw one's feelings of attachment from a person, idea, or object, as in anticipation of a future loss

I wear shades to block your light

but still recall the hanging moon,

how it bathed your face

in whisky dark. I block my nose

among the roses but their thorns

still perfume the air in every room

that held your breath. I press

a cold spoon to my mouth to freeze

the lip of my resolve, swing a hammer

at the panes to change the view.

I use the crayon you once used

to color doors of my heart shut,

fade the songs of meadowlarks

to barely hued. The way your touch

traveled through me like a blessing

for the damned, I watch the sea

extend to shore its watery hand.