09.01.2023 I

 Diminished by your loss,

Only slightly there

I hang on by a gold locket of your silver hair

Or a whiff of mysteriously perfumed air– 

Egyptian musk, that 

Haunts the small hall 

Outside our room—

Is that you? Are you there? 

Why won't you come in, wrap around me again? 

I don't understand,  

Are you there? Are you aware? Or 

Are you no spectre at all? Only air? 

If I go on to find you will I too dissapear:

A collection of recollections

A cautionary tale? An occasional whiff of Chanel N°5 

Which no one but you would attach meaning to? 

"Old Lady Perfume" you called it

And you were right

I am older than the dirt that covers your white 

Coffin, on whose lid I left my 

Red lip mark

One last joke whose punchline will hang over you forever. 

You hated to kiss me when I was wearing lipstick

I loved to torture you 

That same way. 

"Blech! Blech!" You'd swipe at your lips by back of hand.

This image, more than any other I fold into a small square

And tuck it neatly inside my brassiere.