Torn apart (A ballad) #poetry

The sky outside this morning

Flocculent clouds stain the bright morning sky

a beautiful blemish, of imperfect shapes
perfecting a flawless canvas

The sun shines bright upon him
but melancholy nestles deep where no light can penetrate

As he is reminded of the blotches she spluttered upon his picture-perfect life
Her skirmish of salacious transgressions

All those late night calls
and visits unannounced
The sensual surprises
and unexpected mornings of ecstasy

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The sun rolls-on with every hour
Illuminating all the little things that inflame her memory-

The pink flowered hydrangea in its ornate gray and blue vase
His two favorite colors.

The placement of her furniture
conscripted into his picture-perfect ideals
Hints of him everywhere.

All the order he’d brought into her disordered life-

The scheduled weekends
engulfed in his methodic caress
His sure fingers writhing her to peaks of pleasure unexplored

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

They gaze at similar stars but stand continents apart
trapped by that cruel fortune bound to befall true love

She sees him each day
In that sculpture he placed in the corner
or the painting he hang by her side
but the days tick on with no end in sight

He feels her each night
In the void left by her
In the absence of surprise
and the weariness of routine

They long for each other
Kept apart
A pandemic in between