The lavender scent is still here,

Lingering past the vanished words,

But open discomfort of a pillow

Full of memories.

Touching her ambitious cheek,

Pinching her for the essence of reality

Finding out symptoms of a

Sour answer.

“The cuts and bruises are in his debt”

Listening to the very fabric,

Lubricating the gasp to the sudden

Still scene framed ahead;

Wishing.

“You mean….”

“Yes – he’s offering himself for your debt”.