I Felt Your Shape

I thought I felt your shape, but I was wrong,
Really all I felt was falsely strong.
I held on tight,
I closed my eyes.
It was dumb,
I had no sense of your size.

It was dumb to hold so tight
But last night, on your birthday, in the kitchen,
My grip was loose my eyes were open.
I felt your shape and heard your breathing,
I felt the rise and the fall of your chest.

I felt your Fall,
Your Winter snows,
Your gusty blows,
Your lava flow.
I felt it all:
Your starry night, your lack of light.

With limp arms I can feel most of you,
I hung around your neck independently,
And my loss was overwhelmed by this depth
I don't think I ever felt.
But I don't know,
My nights are cold
I remember warmth,
I could have sworn I wasn't alone.