Poetry by: Sid Vixen
He stared at her face for such a long time it began to run together.
The creases where the photograph was folded became lines of age on her perfect skin. Blending
as one, he began to feel an increasing sadness overwhelming his being.
Brain clicking in repetition, ever-changing, he repeated to himself “she is beautiful.”
He ran his hands over the glossy paper, memories a-flooding. Becoming aware that he was yet
unaware, letting it settle in, a slow tear fell onto her smile.
She always was beautiful. Now she is marred by time and sorrow, as the cold wind whipped
around him in the snowy street. He leaned over the railing, gazing down upon the frozen river
below. So much time has passed, and yet time is irrelevant.
He drew a heart with his forefinger slowly around her face, smiling wanly. “I will never forget
you, my heart.” And he gripped tightly to the only shred of her left in his life, as he flew….