Old love...
dried and blown by the wind
come back in a letter
quite by surprise.
I'm a curious woman
and search for clues - the where,
the what and how
two lives are cracked apart.
I could walk past her shop
peek through the plate glass window
watching my reflection
watching her.
I would turn away then
the words dried up and stale,
crumbling out the corners of my mouth
and dropping to the ground.
