I used your smile once
too many times
and your presence
was the canvas
I could afford for.
Days fled, words died,
trapped in different worlds,
our hearts quit,
and I write in past tense now.

if I can display my
heartbreak in poetry
then I can keep
loving you.

at
the bottom of the wine bottles,
the tattoo on my chest,
that restaurant at the 5th avenue,
the first thing my lips utter
when my dreams hurt me.

so naive, we all are,
that at times we paraphrase
all our life's sweet moments
and title it
with another person's name.

sad stories, mostly,
happen when
one don't remember
and the other
won't
forget.

"I frightfully wonder
whether that kiss on the leap day
could be our last kiss
and I get all sick
and pray we last forever
because the curse of the haunting
memories of all the kisses before
would burn my skin
and my soul."