You left the taste of your soul on my pillow.
Thrown onto the floor,
Clinging for a moment to bare floorboards.
My crimson lipstick still lingers
upon my favourite coffee mug.
A memoir to a yesterday lover,
who didn’t quite match up to expectations.
A thoughtful moment of contemplation,
A mistake,
Too many times makes this a mistake …
My cup runneth over,
Yet still I hunger for more of what I’m unaware I need.
My hands held in prayer,
For I beg to understand my flaws.
I beg for the memoirs to be sweeter.
I move slowly around this day,
Letting the scent of you to hold me hostage.
Until the next time I guess…
And I place the pillow back,
puffing up it’s body,
as my frailty is replaced with action,
My coffee cup once again sparkles with the perfection of the moment that hangs before me.
A moment of possibilities,
A future laid with unspoken promises.
But if I hold my ear quietly to my pillow,
I’m sure I heard your soul  whispering,
Something beautiful.
Maybe,
Just maybe,
Next time
You’ll stay.
But,
Reality
never matches up
To the illusion …