As was
is,
her dress
those ruffles
and torn–
As was
is,
her touch
we cry
such wet
such searing
tears–
As was
is,
she hides
those
Track marks
in bed–
As was
is,
her body,
those bones
dried blood–
As was
is,
her smile
her love
these memories
my questions
and grief–
As was
is.
Image and Poem by Rob Goldstein (c) 2016 – 2017-2019
