Days go by mildly now,
your scent has left the building
and the weather might improve at last.
I can not complain too much.
Days go by mildly now.
We did some universal stuff at times,
remember, like watching a full moon
and making love on a bed with rose petals
but in my memories
those moments have a kitschy flair.
There was a goodbye in every sentence,
even the items on the table
that were there silently,
seemed to scream it out:
Over. Over. Over.
A scissor made me think of pain.
I shall take the kitschy moments
to remember you by mildly,
but not yet. As for a while
I need the pain to understand.
I put the items in a drawer
and clean the table with my tears.