I remember those arms - they once were mine and that soft skin of yours that used to tell me what’s outside what’s to fear and what’s to love who to trust and who to run from before I myself felt my eyes blossom.
I remember those legs - and all the places we walked steps we shared pain and fatigue you so bravely endured in desire to protect me
that I felt it all equally.
I remember those eyes - they look so much like mine - so I look away
those tears of yours - Why do they taste just like mine? Why do I feel you hurting even after they cut that line that made our bodies seem like one?