P.S.
Now these lonely lost cadences
crack my knee-jerk self defenses;
your laughter like a silver bell
chiming sweet nothings.
Scanning Polaroid reminders
of the days and years behind us;
each image burns my retinas,
etching blue memories.
I trace patterns on your dresses,
feel imaginary caresses;
flesh and lips of fading lust
painful in proximity.
Now that we are growing older,
indifferent and colder;
love and pain no more acute,
dulled by time’s increasing sweep.
Cherished memories recapture
bygone days of youth and rapture;
whilst in dying embers frame the words
P.S. - I love you still.
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