Salty,
silent
streams
cut lines through porcelain.
Sad eyes
open wide
revealing her broken soul.
Being alone
and being left alone
are dissimilar.
One a retreat,
the other, a life sentence.
Casual curiosities question:
"Why?"
Sullen silence is
the only reply.
Cold outlines
in Egyptian cotton
are the ghost
of a warm body.
Your side
is empty.
So is
her chest.
Brutal beating
of a bleeding heart
is a rigid reminder
of a life left to live.
Love is lost.