Those broken eyes
Sad, lonely light to live with
Candle wicks now fading
Heart stolen with the evening wind
A broken plate rests on the dark walnut floors
Shattered pieces, disconnected memories
An empty seat, impression in the cushion of something that should have lasted longer than a spark.
A dangerous silence
Calloused hands wrap around empty promises
Cold food that would have been
Could have been a beginning mid-book
Tabletop filled with nothingness, desolate with tattered chords of maybes, then with a hollow aching goodbye. Longer than the slow motion swaying of a walk to and out the door.
The click the only sound left, deafening