As Love Dies

the roses on the table wilt in slow motion
blackened edges of velvet death
an upright casket vase props ripened scent
morbid display of love’s attempt

hung heads drop resigned to fate
clinging yet still to tender layers
memories long tainted by anger
each a story to tell if given an ear

like a tin photograph daguerreotype
a moment recorded on time’s silver vapor
never as beautiful as when it was taken
entropic decay the only thing certain

as love dies, a rose dies
as a rose dies, a love dies

— there is still water in the vase

but some things can’t be saved

~ Em C.

2.25.17

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12 thoughts on “As Love Dies

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