Fire consumed your letter,
Curling its soft words into ashes.
I gathered the soot and framed you
In a floating candle bowl.
Each morning I look at the grey water
And bury myself under the covers.
You held my hands the last time
I saw you, and said nothing.
I saw this coming. I saw the change
In your red lips, your hazel eyes.
Failure, fragrant as your musk, now drifts
Inside this room, this life.
I tried to save you through beautiful poems,
What will suffice when love dies?
Not even memories, not this time.
Poetry by Bibek
Read 141 times
Written on 2018-03-22 at 12:54
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