The Photographs

Goth couple kissing on street, Washington DC - outside Roxy Club, near Dupont Circle early/mid 1990's

.
I saw some old photographs today
It took me back to then
That day we went to London
On the tube and on the train
.
I felt the same old feelings
Like a knife piercing my guts
As I remembered you are dead now
I’ll never again feel your touch
.
I realised that so many times
When I see a photograph
Of a street, a park, a train, a tube
.
I am searching for a glimpse of you
Just some fragment to hold on to
.
I don’t know why I think I’ll find
A moment undiscovered in time
.
A snapshot of a Love I lost
The unlived life you left behind
.
I have no Polaroid of you, my Love
No grinning pose, no Kodak Moment
.
Our Love was secret
It was forbidden
It was disapproved of
We had no time at all
.
I sometimes wonder if I grieve
The unending absence of you
or the gaping wound in me
.
Still I search each photograph I see
Scanning for a time capsule of you
.
Trying to remember
Grabbing at the past
Struggling to recapture
Your youthful swagger
.
Your secret smile
Your wit, your sweetness
Your smell was like home
Your confidence
.
Your way of seeing the world
The touch of your hands
Electric on my skin
.
My hold on you is slipping
But still I know your name
All that is left are memories
and you visit in my dreams
.
These will be my photographs
Precious shadows in black and white
Of a perfect boy and a perfect girl
Who were so right, but at the wrong time
.
.
One day, M.