Or like wet leaves
Along the bank
Of the canal
I was found;
Too late, and useless.
An organic refuse but beautiful -
Beautiful in moonlight.

So deep.
So far beneath
The topsoil
I had forgotten sunlight
I had forgotten
Sky
And all the promises you'd broken

And all I had done.
These worms
My silent neighbours
In this
Premature grave
That I had made
An unforgiving
Home of;

An unforgiving
Wife of.
A love of.
A son of.
A blanket and shroud
And my own flesh and blood of
And buried the promises.
Buried the lover.
With curses, and flowers.

And sonnets
I wrote in the bad times
When night would not end
And I drank myself foolish;
And kisses.
The kisses you owe me.
The kisses I owe you.
The debt never settled.

The truth long forgotten -
That you were mine, always.
That I was the only.
The tender, the keeper.
The jewel and the seeker
The lover
The lover
The hands still in slumber.
The head at my shoulder.

The soft breaths that bound me.
The stranger, that found me;
That fed me
And clothed me
And warmed me by winter -
And lit up the streetlamps.
And scattered the starlight.
The burden you carried
That shattered your body.

And you were so strong, then;
So valiant. So I bore
That strength like a shadow
Until you were weakened;
And buried me, too late.
Too late but still breathing.
These wet leaves in moonlight
Reflecting the skyline.