Like Chernobyl
by Cornelia Blair

I now count my days from the end
Rather than the beginning.
In quiet times
encapsulated remembrances of love
bubble into my consciousness.

I yearn for youth’s
rabid love and ache.
Immediate, intense desire,
calls in the night,
tears at dawn.

Eager, able bodies
embrace with ease
Quivering heart, flushed throat
Sudden love on a coat in the grass
hushed memories saved.

Purloined touches with whisky breath
prohibitions thrown aside
dreams abandoned and reformed.
I long to call that lover of old
And tell him I recall that day.

But I don’t.
We hush those thanks
To old young loves.
Honeyed thoughts forever entombed
Like Chernobyl.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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