Old white lace and dried red roses,

sharing their loneliness of years,

together in a silken creamy box,

at the mercy of diligent hands,

of minimalist decluttering efforts,

lost to the world and themselves,

still bearing the touch of loving hands

and the slight whispers of desire.

Old white lace yellowing softly,

dried red roses losing their colour,

hidden together in a silken box,

bearing the fading scent of eerie lust,

the evanescent laughter of the years,

the echoes of names engraved

in the floating seconds of a love affair.

June 28th, 2021.