Time Imprints Memories on My Mind

The things you left, lover, collect dust
Your fingerprints have a marking of all you've touched
Including my heart.

Have my hands touched yours? Or did they slip your hearts grasp?

Time imprints memories on my mind, but they matter not in yours.

Trips to the museum, or to a play
The simple way our hands intertwined after a long and beautifully spent night
Are as vibrant to me as a Monet masterpiece

And can be as loud as to remind me that sometimes, the past can be too much.

You've dealt with it, so much better than I. Our circle of friends no longer connects, phone calls don't exist, as much as our relationship hasn't for years.

Maybe it's my fault
Maybe I've done nothing but waste away waiting for a phone call that will never occur
Waiting for a voice which will never again call out my name

I just can't help thinking that the dust will soon rise and your heart will once again love mine.