I packed your clothes,
slowly,
carefully.
Each item
inspected
methodical
like the tick of a pacemaker.
Each dress,
a memory.
The white one
with
the blue dots.
The one I tore
from your body
five sols ago.
Over and over
again.
How I adored
that dress
and the smile on your face
as you wore it.
It no longer fit you,
but I did not care.
You were
so beautiful to me,
for age had never
dulled
my love.
With each piece
held in my hands
images rippled,
a stone into water.
reflections
of a fools hope
I once thought
eternal.
As I held the last
of you
I could feel
your warmth
fade.
The wake of you
nothing, but
a still, cold
sea.