Translucent doves loom overhead,

clasping olive branches through an autumn sunrise

as a raven perches above engraved stone.

I watched three-day-old sunflowers

bloom in shadow,

ravaged ground making room

for tonight’s dated souls.

I clutched the lit candle,

which hadn’t felt so cold

since the day you betrayed me

with a kiss.

You left me

for the man wrapped in grim black.

His emaciated hand grasped yours

as you took flight in shedding your lies.

I recalled the stranger’s barren eyes

stare into mine with familiarity.

You tore my heart from my chest

without disturbing bothered air,

but with sorrow stained on your face.

It’s been three days since

you became a whisper, gray hairs,

a bittersweet memory to seize as I,

overflowing with nothingness,

strive for glimmers of hope in the scriptures above.

I fell to my knees

begging for answers;

Why did I suffer at your hands?

What had I done to deserve this

crushing sensation of a barren chest cavity?

Why were our last moments a fall from grace

as labored breaths paved the way to truth?

Why didn’t you pass this cup to another

instead of forcefully giving me a cross to bear?

I wondered if you’d come home

on some blessed day

in some twisted way

to whisper withered apologies in my ear,

to reassure a brittle soul.

I wondered what you would say

if I asked how could you leave

and not take me with you?

I understand now the words you never told me.

I couldn’t be your sunshine

because I was a reminder

that our youthful primes were fleeting.

It was hard for you to smile.

and then you crossed the line.

The birds cry, but I shed no more tears.

Perhaps I’ll see you someday,

when our smiles are young again,

when we climb the blinding stairs,

and we soar among and become

translucent doves.