Forlorn Lover III

You left. But you forgot your poetry. What do I do with it? Set it ablaze? But how do you burn something already burning in you?

Today, I wore the last drop of our perfume and the smell of you followed me everywhere. I returned home, sodden in my own tears. Of liberation. Of nostalgia. After today, I won't have to remember you. I will wash clean this dress, rid it of every scent. I will bury deep the empty peach container of our perfume. Then you will be forgotten.

But here I am, again, your poetry in my heart with my soul on fire...