In your memories

Within the Walls of Memory
Your reflection is imprisoned
and deep within this heart turned to concrete,
a withered rose lies embedded.


Each morning, I drown
in your veins
those delicate veins
pulsing with the touch of you,
the presence of you,
the fragrance of you.


I roam fleeing across this city’s chest,
through streets stripped of beauty,
through neighborhoods
that feel like graveyards.

In your absence,
from the leaking walls of memory,
each night, each dawn,
I spill like dew.


Perhaps to spill is to be emptied,
perhaps to spill is to be weak,
perhaps to spill is to lose control of oneself.


Oh, memories
you that rustle endlessly within the mind.
Oh, your silhouettes

The only sorrow in this love
Is that
In remembering you, I unlearned how to live.