even if our love was unconditional...

the last fear is dead.

please indemnify
the bits of myocardium
you borrowed from me.

It's heart crushing
when you meet the right person
at the wrong time.

I keep songs
locked away in boxes
like secrets.
I will take them out
like postcards
to help me remember.

our lips will never meet again,
nor fingers intertwine,
so please bless my dreams
for indulging what's not mine. 

you were the poem.