Chantilly Lace

I linger in front of the oak dresser,
that was your Mother's.
A black and white picture, framed
has pride of place,
I look like her.
The mirror is curved like my lips,
coated generously in multi coloured
lip stains, tried on.

My eyes feast on dainty glass bottles
scattered, all shapes and sizes.
I spritz your perfume on my neck and wrists,
close my eyes and drift for a moment.
All while you watch.
I smile, as do you, and we continue to talk,
aimless talk.
It's nice to have someone listen,
you've always been good at that.

I lift the lid on your crystal jewelery box,
inside my memories lay, alongside your own.
I notice all the old gifts
from my boyfriends past,
passed to you.
I try on a few of your rings,
dangle a shiny necklace at my throat.
My hands and eyes in all your things,
you never do mind.
The lingering always gets me talking,
aimless talk,
that eventually leads to why I'm there.

Your voice fresh and bright,
wipes the shadow from my face,
you know I need the rest
so again you stitch up my bursting seams,
with understanding and grace.
I know you've been right where I am, once.
You lay me down on crisp white sheets,
wrapping me in Chantilly lace.
I watch your sheer lavender curtains
flap in the breeze,
as I fall asleep I think of you.

How you wear your heart on your sleeve.
A scroll with these words inked;
'I Live And Die For Those I Love'
and I wouldn't doubt that either.
Even though we too, have had our hard times,
together,
those years when I never received a hug
or heard you say you loved me.
Although no matter what,
I always knew you did.

Under the settled dust of our past
and through the darkness of future untold,
remaining still and always
is our clean, white love for each other.