Bright air illuminates the dust.
Bottle of wine still lies overturned.
Hearth lies empty, coal turned to crust.
Pale wax candles last night burned.
Dark beams across the ceiling stare
at my still form. I mull over you.
Igniting mere spark where she made you flare,
my soul still wonders if it's true.
Back in the moment our intimate frisson
comes but with a bitter twist,
inhaling your musk, the truth hits – a collision.
A hint of her scent, present in our tryst.
I leave in silence with the look of a seer,
we both realise your wife's ghost's still here.