If I loved you, could I ever love another?
Is it even possible?
Would it not betray your memory?

You were like a raindrop falling perfectly still,
Balancing between my eyes,
And, for a moment,
Gleaming with the sun’s light,
A fleeting moment of perfection.

Then, all too quickly,
You slipped away,
Running down my nose,
Missing my lips,
Landing on my chin,
Before finally coming to rest on the ground.
Rain falls every day,
But not like that.
Not like that.

Every memory of you,
is a moment of beauty that is slowly draining
to the depths of my mind.
Why is everyone so sure I will love again,
when your parting gift to me was an umbrella?












Photo by Matheus Oliveira from Pexels