I have lost her love.
I look for her in words—
the words that fill pages
of my stolen diary.

She has a few good days.
She fell in love.
His honey words
made her forget her fear.

He left.
And so did she.

I have lost her love.
I see glimpses of it
when I cook pasta.
In dance, in sweat—
I see it in my eyes.

She seems so far away.
I have lost her love.