Anniversary

I always picture them whispering

cool chants of time 

into the voided fingers of my hair.

I only stare as the ache shakes

a sweet-bitter milk from my head.

The smell is like a sad friend

drunk with rain.

PROMPT: Magnetic word tiles selected on the basis of what appealed to me that day. (I have LOTS!) Since the day I wrote it WAS an anniversary, that also became part of the prompt.