Vodka and Rose Petals
Three years since you left me gasping,
since the thieves of light chased me away,
denying the gift of you ever existed.
Life now thrift store bargains for strangers.
Three years since the mantle
swept clean of rose petals and dog hair,
kitchen scrubbed so empty the ghost
of Grey Goose can’t find the freezer.
Three years since your scent filled me.
Perfume soaked Qtip in the desk drawer
of the smoky office now fails
to summon your fading details.
Three years since. Color should
be back in my wardrobe but
dark has always been my choice.
You were the kaleidoscope, extinguished.