It took him years to stop loving her,
For the impression of her eyes to fade.
There'd be dreams and nightmares,
He'd see her around town.
He could never really move on from her perfume, the colour of her eyes in the morning, sunlight bouncing off her figure;
The way her nose crinkled as she laughed.

I am not the sophisticated underdog,
I trip and fall through door frames
Always unannounced.

I am the wavering circle,
I give myself away too early in the game
Always a red herring.

If you still loved her you'd tell me about how her nose crinkled when she'd laugh like she could love the entire the world, and how she liked the yellow of sunflowers because they'd remind her of what it was to be healthy; how she was set to be nothing like her parents yet was still fragile enough to breakdown in a hospital bed; her spontaneous singing. What it was like to hold her in your sleep.
You'd tell me how you miss her reaching out for you; how sleeping alone made you worship the summers when you heard her laugh billowing in the wind like her skirts, dancing in the breeze:ablaze.
But time does that sometimes,
You don't love her anymore.