Lost love

At the end

I shall never return here.

Never retrieve

the loved-together past.

My mind’s limbs dismembered

as if memories lack museums.

Ah,

the going home agony.

I have left

that loved life I led.

The long-gone agony

as if abandoned for a time

whilst still here.

And now…. there.

The very sound of tearing in two

is itself the temper of pain

the textile of tear-drops

the substance of my new universe.

The left-alone one.

Kissing her

Sometimes I am not put off by

the taste of

lipstick and toothpaste

But the corners of her

mouth

seem to keep

a previous kiss,

the crumbs of a feast of love.

Nevertheless

I kiss her there.

With my arms, too

with my thighs

I wrap her in a kiss

that is, this time

mine.