dust collects on the edges of memories living room walls grayed with outlines of what was,photographs hang in webbed silence each face frozen in a laugh that no longer resounds

Their love as a vase cracked, yet still holding water,the stems of our shared days with petals dry, dead on the floor, they dropped only days after their the curtain fell, their stage silent

Time drips like coffee from a percolator as I trace the lines of your absence remembering the warmth of your smiles; not saved but preserved,like the scent of sandalwoodin the hollow of a forgotten drawer

I am left to ponder,what remains when all else fades?
The torment of my daily life is worthless and putrid, no laughter, only the silence, as memento mori repeats his whispers in my soul, life is ephemeral

it’s been said that in every ending,there lies a beginning,and in every goodbye,a love that lingers

where is love