Sentimentality
A sadness in his face that isn’t dark
But maybe contemplation of pale things
Like loss of love not worthy of remark
Because it’s past and now has purple wings,
No longer scarlet, settles in his eyes.
His forehead, veiled with curls, offsets with calm
The sorrow. Erstwhile lovely breasts and thighs
Are worthy not of threnody but psalm
Now years have gone. No matter how desired
Those long lost forms once were, his underlip
Tonight will pout its way along the fired
Up skin of current love, electrip hip.
..His lashes and his lids, his eyes will close
….And then another’s scent will fill his nose.