Closed eyes, heart not beating. They lay there on a hearse bedecked with flowers. Flowers which smell of them. So we realise their presence for one last time;  as they were near. With every petal 's fragrance waning, they go far and far and far.
Now we know, they are not here. Marvel how a person fades like his scent....

Sometimes I type and late at night
I cannot feel my fingers
But there they are, words on the screen
Filling pages as my body lingers
My ceiling parts and I depart
As I gaze into space
But the stars are far too dull to see
So all I see are your eyes

I think my brain's running away
Hand in hand with my trailing heart
And ****** footprints float from empty caverns
Flowing into my art
And I find the ground long since gone
I am lost and at a loss
My memories no longer mine
Only picture books filled with you

So I sink deeper in the drink
So I float further than intended
Searching the ether for "je ne c'est qua"
Heart and mind long gone, soul unattended
I still can't feel my keyboard
Only the memory of the feel of your skin
My words reflecting all that compose me
And they all fall back to you

The crowd discerns you
a mundane nature
owing to the dark shades
you drape around your skin.
Darling, note this,
"Your daily deeds
And the words you speak
display the colours
From within."