The Ghosts of Love

The touch of his eyes,
raise blisters of disgust, on
her glaciered heart.

She catches his pain,
tinged, with sorrow, regret, fear
and yes, there is love.

Too little, too late,
she thinks, watching her former
knight, his armour dulled.

Her desire is slain;
he has put out all its fire,
quenched with pouring scorn.

Now he seeks to light,
to rekindle from ashes,
that, which he destroyed.

Who could live like this;
in a place, dominated
by the ghosts of love?

She thinks that he knows
but he battles to accept
and tries to let go.

Her mind is made up,
the line in the sand erased.
The future beckons.