Love Poem: The Flowers On the Bed

The Flowers On the Bed

Your eyes they’re
different, I didn’t notice
at first, then I saw the flowers
on the bed, they appealed to you,
at least I thought they did when you
came in the door, your lips curled,
eye contact inconsistent, your hands twitched,
your restless composure.....
you moved your hair away from the face I fell in love
with years before, with that motion I no longer had a view
of the flowers on the bed, immediately I was lost within, recollecting as you
spoke
I thought first of my life before you, the first time I saw you,
our first date, first kiss, my life in love;
I returned to silence, revisiting the present, you now turned facing
the flowers on the bed with tears in your eyes, tears now in mine
as the situation became clear;
I know now why love cries when hearts capitulate,
I left the flowers on the bed –last thing you touched, an organic
monument of love faltered, deceased memorial of our love’s final
effort,
The last thing I cared about while caring about you