On that day
I sat,
with a big smile,
clad in that
garment you
confessed made your
heart glow.

On the ninth
hour just after the break
of dawn,
the strands of
my hair
neatly packed
just the way you
like it – ponied.
My lips.
carefully coloured
just with the right
amount-you like them red.

I sat
in that pose
and poise
you said suited
my frame.
Everything was
perfect-for you.

Its the sixth hour
just past the noon.
I’m here, still

You gave your word.

I wait so you
can see my best.

And its the 9th hour
before the dark dark.
I’m still perfect,
just like you asked.

My lips have faded
a little.

The tears re-announce
their presence.
Like they did at the
two hours before
the sixth hour
just after the noon hour,
one hour before the noon.

Its the tenth hour.

You missed my glory.
Come forth,
eulogise the fading
hours my dear valentine.
To my soul,
would be
glorious perfection.

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