Forgetting history

How shall I name the hours
That pass unnoticed
History is a song for idiots
A stumbling play clichéd and dying
Dry as summer grass
My love will you remember me?
When I am dust beneath your feet
When my arms no longer press
Your sweet and fragrant face
Against my chest,
Against my silent, weary
Undead heart
Against this evil heart
That loved you so?





© J.L.Stanley