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
then did not.
That stranger who enchanted me
with a spell he could not break,
expressing love he could not fake.
Who was that man with a soft deep voice
wooing and courting me,
with champagne, kisses,
and message after message?
That man, who stole my passion,
pocketing it on his way out.
Who lifted me high above the ground
then let go his grip, and fled
before my china body had the chance
not to break.