I'd appreciate the angel more
If she'd stolen the memory with the man.
I can just see-
No distant glares at our places;
The pallisades and tennis courts,
The road at 3 AM.
No blood drawn lip at pictures,
No pounding on the mirror.
A shadow space of air at every anger...
A look-away at every laugh...
In place of memory, a sunlit lake-
A time I stood in thought...
With no idea of what was lost forever.
(This poem was written by Alexander Eichen)
Bob and Alex Eichen
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-142/
