|
| |
Forsaken Spiderwebs
Our home was lit with autumn's spicy scent.
Now spent are the forms that had something to hold:
votive molds, photo frames, vases.... forsaken.
The form within my breast, too, is forsaken,
no longer pressed against your Old Spice scent.
Once, we had each other to hold....
Now memories are the substance we hold.
Your sloughed skin dust is not yet forsaken;
a whiff remains of seasonal clove scent....
Forsaken spiderwebs hold your signature scent.
10-20-23
Copyright ©
Juliet Ligon
|
|