I leave a trail.
The half-eaten sandwich;
Traces where mascara and tears splashed
As they rolled down flushed cheeks;
The stain of painted lips pressed against cold glass,
Or the white paper cup;
Fading scents of vanilla perfume
That linger where limbs have been;
Long hairs that fell from the sweeping chestnut locks
I left my trail,
Never to be followed by you.