Ash Wednesday
The palm crosses burned, ashes and oil, anointed
On the foreheads in snapshots and video stills,
Surrendering everything in my memorials,
Of her, submitted, the tatters and fragments.
The soft focus flesh and delectable smile,
Hair sweetly tousled, brushing cheek and shoulder,
Freckles on cleavage, faint and appealing,
Her breath frozen still, scented with jasmine.
Let something, one thing, remain, please.
Pennant spiked in the brain as a moon flag,
Claiming a clandestine spot, a crater of belonging,
A broach clasped onto the heartache lapel.
Giving up, the penance of love unrequited,
When the ashes and oil dry to dispersion,
And cast their molecules to the windswept palms,
Beyond lost horizons, out of sight and mind.
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