Breathe Again

Gently brushing her graying hair he mourned. He mourned for the ever lasting love that had been and still was. As the wrinkles were speed bumps for his fingers across her glass face the hope of one day meeting again was a speed bump for his racing heart. A single rose mechanically placed in her hands was the only vibrant color that now remained. Red the color of passion that once ran through her veins as they danced beneath the art work moon. As the crystalline tear flowed down his face another gathered to take its place. Tear by tear like rain drops on her breasts, blink by blink trying to hide her death. The hard walk home to an empty shell, his first restless sleep, his living hell.