Your bed is gone
Your dresses along
With every hint of you,
No visuals, but
Memory is scent to me
It's in vibrations
Caught trapped in the walls
And ceiling, singing back to me
To hear and smell you present
Remains a privilege that I'll
Only return to dirt or air
If I wind up burned to ashes
Rather than interred and even
Then, logic could
Not prevent me
Proof could
Not convince me
That the height of the fence we climbed
Could fall to dust in the darkness
Just fall apart in dark just out of view
Deprive endlessness of you
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 10:03 PM UTC
Your bed is gone
Your dresses along
With every hint of you,
No visuals, but
Memory is scent to me
It's in vibrations
Caught trapped in the walls
And ceiling, singing back to me
To hear and smell you present
Remains a privilege that I'll
Only return to dirt or air
If I wind up burned to ashes
Rather than interred and even
Then, logic could
Not prevent me
Proof could
Not convince me
That the height of the fence we climbed
Could fall to dust in the darkness
Just fall apart in dark just out of view
Deprive endlessness of you
Successfully delivered.