I swore
you were an
engravement on my heart.

I loved you from
a distance,
short of a stop.

You left,
without a
note left in my
pocket.

I have torn
ideas of what we
were and what
have always been.

A flower
that will never
bloom again.

Your touches
are burns on my skin.

A sting that will
not fade.


You were an engravement
that was never on my
heart,
only a memory
on my
skin.