

When there is nothing left
When there is nothing left of you but fading memories and a velvet bowtie, I wonder who that person was with a charm which roused my heart; warming it with one lung and cooling it with the other. Who gave and took back the giddy beat of its song, who parachuted in and was airlifted out, whose loving ambition was aborted, with my hope and whose lips kissed mine so tenderly, then did not. That stranger who enchanted me with a spell he could not break, appearing unexpectedly, ex