I’d Almost Forgotten

 I’d almost forgotten that it is only 16 weeks 14 hours 59 minutes 27 seconds since you went.
 
 Almost forgotten your smile: 
 slightly crooked teeth behind those thin pink lips, 
 beaming, 
 infectious, 
 a smile that lights up a room, 
 lights up a person. 
 A smile that would let out a dirty giggle 
 sparked by your crude jokes 
 and filthy sense of humour.
 
 I’d almost forgotten your hazel eyes,
 the way they sparkled flecks of gold when you looked at me, 
 the mischief when you lingered, 
 when I caught you staring, 
 when I caught you loving
 
 And I’d almost forgotten the shape of your body, 
 The scar on your hip, 
 the curve of your breast, 
 your funny little twisted toes. 
 And how when you came home late at night, 
 you would push that cold body against me. 
 I forgot how much I missed you cosying it against mine, 
 waking me from my warmth.
 
 I had almost forgotten that a quarter of your body was covered in my artwork, 
 obliterating the signs of youthful errors, 
 colourful sleeves of birds and flowers, 
 but no where near as colourful as you
 
 I’d almost forgotten how long and slim your fingers were, 
 how they touched me, 
 slipped tightly into my palm, cool and elegant, 
 hand holding in public, 
 caressing in private.
 
 I’d almost forgotten how when we first met I could wrap my arm all the way around your waist. 
 You were so proud after all those years 
 when I could wrap my arm around your waist again, 
 so proud of the weight you had lost, 
 exercise and diet paying off?
 
 I’d almost forgotten the pain you were in
 I’d almost forgotten the visits to A&E
 I’d almost forgotten four weeks by a hospital bed
 I’d almost forgotten how quick it was
 
 I’d almost forgotten, 
 because it has been 16 weeks 15 hours 2 minutes 57 seconds since you went.
 And that’s too long for you to be gone