How can I be free?

Free from this purgatory

Of yearning?


For I am frozen in Her wake,

In Her fragrant reverie;

Asleep and awake,

her smiling visage woven,

into my soul.


Now, then,

my existence,

is of moments;

Mere mementos (However, priceless),

drifting, waiting, in quiet solitude,

to fade,

with the ebb and flow of time.