I'm afraid to lose my myriad memories

of you. Half asleep, I watched you

in darkness dressing to leave me.


Seeing you in the act of creation

like a vision. Fingers in tangled dark hair,

agonising over each wilful word.


Your eyes on me as I undressed,

smiling at some secret you hadn't shared

yet. Basking in your warming glow


like embers from a fraught fire long fizzled.

Your eyes radiantly aglow,

avoiding mine in case I saw into your soul.


Your head against my chest,

your struggle to let go,

your bravado concealing something I didn't yet know.


Your flowers, poems, wine, romance,

your words spoken in flirty French

I didn't understand. Too late to learn.


Too late to go back and live you once more.


I'm afraid to lose my myriad memories 

of you.

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