Days go by

Your bitter sweet scent still resides

In the fortress of my dusty heart.

It is the scent of home, of skin, of morning.

It is the aroma of our togetherness, forgetting ourselves,

And being numb with happiness.

Days go by and we keep looking behind,

Finding traces of our feet without seeing where we go.

Days go by and traces of my tears erode;

Days go by and I still need your hands to warm me;

Days go by and I know you’re gone.

And ‘far away’ is a notion without meaning,

And tears leave new traces on my soul.

Which divine path is awaiting me?

I am hanging by the loose thread of your wool sweater.

~ Tina