That scent still lingers in my sorrowful nose,
My hands can still feel that gorgeous brown hair,
The presence is faux as it can get, but I’m glad its there.
I’m glad I can still be kissed in my dreams,
And that familiar voice speaks when the evenings are still.
I’m glad for my love, albeit its object is no longer real.
Some say love dies when distance is great.
Others say time can extinguish the flame.
My lover’s been long gone; my love is just the same.
When my heart starts to pang and I get short of breath,
When tears from my eyes, memories start to jerk…
I try to stay calm and remember – my love has gone only to work.