Past Tense
Past Tense
The pain and this grief is held close
to my chest is, all that is left is
becomes past tense.
Memory now vanishing, this work
of remembering is love
without vibrancy, vitality or motion.
No aroma of the moment is more
smelling than thinking is.
All that is left is
Clenching a shadow not
caressing her flesh, is
all that is left is;
Another kind of slow death is
disappearing until love is
just another word again.
Copyright © Ka Kimmel | Year Posted 2016
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