Bed Mark the moment


Crumpled Bedsheets mark the imprint of your memory,
A glimpse of the tale untold.
Pillows bolstered,
folds outline rested spot of warmth now unfolded.
A watermark of a moment.
A Perfect stain.
Yet Lonely and alone this haunting shouts this passing.
sweetened sourness of time gone by now lost.
Give his and has this moment lost.