… He’s gone, yet his essence lingers.
To his absence, senses are altered in airs.
A damp earthy sweat from rumpled emerges;
When our passion died, the shroud that held our rages.
… I erase the evidence from out trysting place,
But to no avail I can erase.
Tapestry hairs and lints reveal;
Woven with love and lust still!
… From all visible encounters, the trap is clean;
Now and forever of what have been.
But how do I clean my heart serene?? …