ashes to ashes

i have completely erased your footprints in my room, replacing them with the ash that now circulates in this space i can only call my own. memories, from the ash of one they arise, to the ash of another they fall, the soil is overturned, exposing the fresh life within old earth. your scent seeps into my bloodstream, infusing into sunken- in memories now remembered in sepia. its touch clings to my cold hands, the air-con hums again at 23 degrees, the bed is ever too high, the curtains are drawn once more, the scent of sweat mixes in a ironic concoction of deja vu and hopefulness — i feel your heartbeat through that semblance of a link through the heated cloth on my skin. i breathe and i gulp in senseless amounts of the fresh air, new ash; it clings to my throat, clings to my body, clings onto my heartstrings and never to let go.