A fading time.

She was a button on my coat. A scent in my nose. A lip to my ear. She danced softly, the earth murmured it's ascent to her "step lightly". Her voice calmed as the ocean after Katrina. Her skin, lavander, soft to touch, touched so soft. Lip balm shined my neck and grabbed my collar. And it was good. Her fingers nimbly played across my hand, it fell in love. I rushed. Inside. Up to my hair. Which captured the heat of the enveloping embrace. Waiting. Waiting. Until the next. She is gone. Forever? I never know. Each meeting could be the last. Each meeting feels like the first. Anew. That is the word that comes to mind. I wake alone. I think of her. I eat alone. I watch her smile. In my minds eye. Evidence of her presence surrounds me. The straw in the coke can. The lip gloss on my table. The shiny cigarette butts. The torn apart food. All this will taunt me most when I am the least. I never wanted to be alone. Neither do you. But everyday, every year. I am more alone then the last. But the memories will stay to taunt me. To remind me of a time when I embraced beauty, kissed the lips of grace, held the hand of love, of Button.