I remember

the taste of your lipstick
on the rim of your wineglass

The smell of your hands
lingering on the pages
of the hardback you left
unfinished by the bed

Sunflower yellow dress
hanging in the space left
when you packed your
bags and departed

Someday soon,
this will all go out to the pavement

But not yet, I think I will
pretend this is temporary
a little longer