Echoes

Here is what I have learnt:
pressed against the cavern of the right ventricle
and scrawled beneath the pulmonary artery
impressed upon the atria, and
entwined between the chordae tendineae
are imprints of you.

Here is what I have learnt:
buried like treasures, amongst myelinated neurones
flowing like ribbons of sound and colour from the hippocampus
peering just beneath the surface of consciousness, and
into the vast prism of my dreams
are ghosts of you.

Here is what I have learnt:
carved into every muscle and engraved into
every bone, etched below the dermis
into an empty, fingerless hand and
forever to the inside of my eyes
are shades of you.

Here is what I have learnt:
I can trace bones in an anatomy book
and scrutinize every cell of every tissue of every organ
and though in every breath, and every heartbeat, and every moment
you are there
you are gone.