My confession :Musty Air

There isn’t a day
since she left
that I haven’t thought of her
those eyes
blue, like a pool and
those lips,rosebuds peeping out of snow
offered a sweet reconciliation,
comfort, and love
She was a sweet opiant,I mean
a tart granita
shaved ice
a fine talc
intoxicating
sexy
tempting
one seep from her nectar
enough to blow up your mind
and I gawky
I must admit
lanky limbs.
goofy grins
A shadow ,
A nobody
lost in a crowd
An anonymous
in life’s arena
got no name
no career
as a bum off the road
with a stick holding a bag
as a slave
on the floor
with
arms outstretched
in praise of a master
whenever she spoke
and whenever she burnt a food
I donated my tongue
without my consent to silence
and my fiery soul to let go of

I wanted
madly
deeply
passionately us to be
the photographs
on the dresser table,
frozen in the moment
with nothing in our minds
just forever together and happily ever after

But,she didn’ t wait nor stayed long enough
she swooped on the bits thrown on the bowl
pecked and flew
gone to unknown
only what’s now left of us
dust and musty air
in this old house
which still ,even though, tastes of the past.