The present tense is past,
time and time slip and intertwine
alone along this barren stretch of
burning nothing that was
our Summer.

Brief laughter echoes weakly
but the smiles stopped singing
long ago.
Winter won't keep us warm
because we'll never forget.

It was not in the eyes that one
fell for the other
but in the silence that our love
grew and died
like a **** in the paraquat.