One by one, you left all my senses
Pulling away slow and painfully
With your lips went the taste of you
Leaving me scarcely clutching
Your soft flesh
Out of my grip
went your touch
Farther and farther away
From me
Till I no longer had sight of you
You faded like a spectre
And were finally swallowed
By a fog of tears
Faintly, your scent
Lingered on the air
And for the moment
I saw you once more in my memory
But I was robbed of that final sense
For in the end
I never heard your voice
Not "goodbye"
Nor a whimper in its place
Worst of all
There was no sweet song
Even in its brevity
A mere three words
But, a symphonic envy of angels
Nonetheless
In its place,
Only I,
Weeping
Ceaselessly weeping
In sacrilege of the senses
Only moments gone
That odious wail
Heralding a battery of tears
smashing violently upon my cheeks
And down they rained
Filling every forlorn wrinkle
Making their imposition
upon my lips
and to my tongue
The taste of sorrow
Washing away your kiss
© Michael Paul Reed