Tell a truth, or tell a lie





To S, for the last time…


Your smile, your
                       skin, your
hair & the soothing evening air,
the city pink as the sun began to
sink.

      All this
& more
now lives
below a gravestone
                            alone;
dreams that breed with soil beneath
the surface:

an afterlife of nights spent with you &
our youth
we so carelessly wasted in
a bright & beautiful display…

I don’t want to visit the grave
very often these days.

Do you?