picture frames, my CD player, plates & silverware
there is nothing in this room she has not touched; her fingerprints are everywhere -
even the extra pillow on my bed
still has the soft bruise left by her head -
she’s gone without a kiss or a slam of the door...
this apartment will not be disturbed by her anymore
my body my lips my face my hair;
the shattered scattered pieces of my heart:
her fingerprints are everywhere
her fingerprints are everywhere
Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fingerprints/
