you died entirely
without me, taking with you
the colors of your small town, its music
and dusty roads. Your hand swept the streets
from the tracks where you walked – and the sounds
of the deep shadowy night. I’ve grieved in front of
a mirror that reflects not, that only bounces off the echo
of my grieving heart. You picked your destiny, I
picked to wait for a sign from the prideful sun.
I stare, destroyed
-alone wearing your lips.