Your perfume following me,
drifting down familiar streets
where once we shared
our time.
Lingering,
in shop doorways…
Wrapped around street lights,
intoxicating me…
as I pass by.
The table where we sat,
drunk on each others company;
your chair empty now…
Though you are there.
Surrounded by ice,
smiling back at me
from my whisky glass.
Appropriate I thought…
the ice.
One comment