Does the bruise of a smile
rest upon me?
Eyes that look on emptily,
without comment,
against life's
inevitable passing by.

A silent pretence of reminiscence,
enacted boldly for posterity
to embrace,
but once.
Enmeshed in the lost-of-now.

Reliving those cherished sharing's
between two hearts - shared.
It is not the same.
Loss embitten's the sunset,
the music,
the wine,
the soul.

Until the heart is rung.
Stifled by despair.
There is no gentleness.
No soft goodbye, or farewell,
sweet of the smell of lavender.

That which was cherished
has passed,
if not forsaken.
For the knowledge of parting
severs the hearts chord.
Banished to tears instead,
where pillows,
lie damp.