P.S.

Now these lonely lost cadences crack my knee-jerk self defenses; your laughter like a silver bell chiming sweet nothings. Scanning Polaroid reminders of the days and years behind us; each image burns my retinas, etching blue memories. I trace patterns on your dresses, feel imaginary caresses; flesh and lips of fading lust painful in proximity. Now that we are growing older, indifferent and colder; love and pain no more acute, dulled by time’s increasing sweep. Cherished memories recapture bygone days of youth and rapture; whilst in dying embers frame the words P.S. - I love you still.