Crumpled

Your shadow

stretches

along the waves of

Egyptian cotton,

your scent

woven

in the silky fabric,

blended into

the smooth grey.

Your heat

pools

in the bowl-shaped depression

where your head

has been,

next to mine,

two craters of

already dull

meteors.

«À tout jamais…»

your whispered pledge

still

limps

through the air,

empty like

mirages

in the incandescence of the desert,

deafening

in the silence around,

mocking me.