The Sun, Just Now....

The sun, just now, almost as if unsure of itself,
slid discreetly into hiding behind the clouds;
bu, if I think of your name,
or smell the pillow from where you slept
on the floor the night before
I can still feel the blessing
holocaustal heat upon my scarred and ancient face.
If I close my eyes and picture your smile
everything becomes bright
enough to blind me to the crimes we know.
If, in that moment, I remember the taste
of melon on your lips
obscured by toothpaste
then my lungs, to capacity,
draw in the air and taste a gentle rain
that with a finger brushed across my cheek
reveals itself as no more than tears.
Openeing my eyes
the sun has not returned.