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More than a kiss

that was misspent,

more than a lie

that was well lent,

more than a sigh

that died mid-breath

is what you left me.

More than a heart,

ragged and worn,

more than a life

broken and torn,

more than a song,

now in a minor key

is what you left me.

More than the flowers

left wilting to die,

more than the bread

left stale and dry,

more than the wine

left open and flat

is all you left me.

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okasan

Bremerton, United States

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