Milk chocolate bars forgotten inside cars
On a sizzling summer day.
A mahogany table on those days when they are able
To sit around it to pray.
Sprinkled chips of moles on your skin as you grow old
That you cannot keep at bay.
Stained reddish copper of her leather-bound book cover
In which she writes all she can’t say.
Shiny new glow of your loved viola bow
When sounds of you can guide the way.
And the worst one of all - the one for which she had to fall -
The one that hates to stay:
Warm embrace for which she sighs, the unclear abyss of your eyes,
With which her heart you slay.