The Flowers On the Bed

Your eyes they’re different, I didn’t notice at first, then I saw the flowers on the bed, they appealed to you, at least I thought they did when you came in the door, your lips curled, eye contact inconsistent, your hands twitched, your restless composure..... you moved your hair away from the face I fell in love with years before, with that motion I no longer had a view of the flowers on the bed, immediately I was lost within, recollecting as you spoke I thought first of my life before you, the first time I saw you, our first date, first kiss, my life in love; I returned to silence, revisiting the present, you now turned facing the flowers on the bed with tears in your eyes, tears now in mine as the situation became clear; I know now why love cries when hearts capitulate, I left the flowers on the bed –last thing you touched, an organic monument of love faltered, deceased memorial of our love’s final effort, The last thing I cared about while caring about you