It's the hardest part of year
Flitting by faster with embers stoked
By the faithful weight of old iron
and familiar curves.
I feel her laughter go a ghost.
In her heartbreaking generosity
A spark of intuition and wisdom
becomes her light in the window
to which I'm sure she lull future lovers.
The unavoidable part of true love
is the pain of altruism;
of actually wanting pleasures in lives
we've loved, lived and long for most.
She was perfect in ways I'll covet.
My heart constantly searches for
and leisurely linger longingly
in the fading neon glow
of our first kiss.
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