Melted Cheese

The promises you can't keep
now that you've left your scent
on my skin -  and gone your way
to leave musk elsewhere:
are like melted cheese.

Stuck in the tile grout.
Burned to the bottom of the pot.
Cemented - gone cold - yet,
adhered to inside of the
nacho-cheese jar, places of my heart.

Won't walk mydaughter down the aisle....
Nope.
Won't grow old with me....
Nope.
I won't be the woman till the end of your days....
Nope.
Because you're gone now - left nothing:
but a pair of shorts; unused rubbers;
and melted cheese.