The petals have lost their touch,
Soft hardness & thick,
Velvet leather & earth scented,
The kind face turned away,
Whispering webs stretching across the unused,
The unaccepted abruptly vented,
But somewhere simply seemed too much,
And a time was tempting,
And now tea is too much.
The sitting & clinking,
The staring & thinking,
Creaking chairs while sweet disappears,
A milky insight in the dim light.
Then two fall away to find hindsight,
Only a memory.