The Candle Burning Poem by Susan Lacovara

I do not know who I miss more tonight
The man I loved or the poet
Who taught me of love's pain
Either way, I am home alone
With the task of tasting my own tears
To tired to reach for another tissue
I swipe streaked mascara
On the back of my hand
And thumb through old McKuen books
In search of a sentence that makes sense
Of senseless parting

The oscillating fan drowns out
The mindless monologue of what might have been
Had we let the windows stay open wide enough
For all the flying faults to escape
The evening breeze knows me well
As does the dim light of the candle burning
In this sad sanctuary of a room well decorated
With pillows and plush covers
You sould have found comfortable
I stare at paintings, done in blue
Acquiring more room, than necessary,
On the cozy couch, shared with my compassionate cat
Who hardly sees a reason for my crying
Although I know, he also misses the hand of the man
Who once stroked our sorrows to sleep