Your were a grand Egyptian queen
with garments of golden lace in the
porcelain sands. A part of you makes up
who I am, your smile is now my smile,
your ways, now my ways. I drank you
up like fine burgundy but you left
without a word.
I miss you but it doesn't show.
The hard parts are stiff and broken.
The price I pay for all my pride.
The winds hail and the sun grows hot
and burns gray smoke that surrounds me
and all that is left is sorrow.