We spoke before, my dearly departed.
I’d turn my head before you got started.
Black is what I see instead of you.
An image of your voice melts the tip of my tongue.
A polished casket and a headstone replaced the person I knew.
Life lessons and long talks told me I’d come ahead of you.
What’s better off; we left unsaid.
When my existence fades into a picture, I’ll see you again.
(© 2022 AC)