the morning was colder, silent
the most quiet i remember
she had been the heartbeat
that brought a room warmth
our steps were now dark
filled in reminiscing, melancholy rhythms
her face watched from the walls still
perfume permeated into tears
where was this place, that felt like a
long sigh of remorse and regret
the what should have beens',
what we could have dones'
what needed to be said
still without a shape
where could fate take us from now
fleeting from our very eyes
the implication held in her absence
there was no lie to be found
this morning, even if we begged
time wouldn't be put on the shelf
not for an hour, not for two
would time give us a passing glance
fate never clasped to pity nor sorrow
she simply swept by those time paralyzed
and we were blaming everything
that could possibly hold weight
the night that lasted too long
the dawn that rose too late
*the silence that had enveloped her
before truth took shape