So much is lost to endless dark,
Extracts from heart’s immortal strands!
Sad lips, your lips, have left their mark,
Luxuriant locks fall on our hands.
Breath slowed upon a notebook space,
Bright rubies’ gleam unites our stare;
And our soft bed reflects your face,
Your smile, your love, is always there.
As wounded birds remind us still
Of youthful woe, your unsaid pleas;
So teardrops wash our lashes’ frill,
As silence shut the piano keys.