paper hearts held to the flame
burn with the passion that
we used to know
until my fingers are covered
in the ashes of my memories
of the nights we spent laughing
in the glow of our cigarettes
kissing to pass the times that
your hand never left mine
locked our secrets in the dresser
on your desk you held my heart
in the stem of your wineglass
my last memory fades out to the
morning sun erasing the solitude
of night, i’m alive, my heart’s
still beating minus the piece I left with you