Why do you cry
When a tongue whispers its goodbye?
I was only leaving for a moment,
To love you in the next room.
When I am in that room,
Among delicate portraits and shifting winds
From a window that bleeds in the breeze,
It will be the shadows I cling to,
To see you in them,
Like idle memories.
Do not weep,
And do not seep
Tears to the blouse I have created for you,
Weaved from threads as old as time.
I am in the blood
Of your veins,
Of the stains you create, inevitably when
Blackened tears flow upon fabric.
Fabric, that quivers from another opened window
That is open in your room.
In the next room,
I still love.
In the next room, remember me,
I am still your beloved.