Holding her phone aloft,
a lovely arms-length away,
her lips part wide from
perfect snowy teeth,
yet her smile can’t quite find
the laugh lines of her eyes,
her pupils narrow to
pinpricks in those glacial,
sky blues that once
flashed so invitingly;
body language now
belying invitation.

My face nestles into
flowing filaments of
her intoxicating tresses,
snuggles her glowing cheek,
my smile sincere but somber,
our faces reflect in
the moist, maximal, pupillary
void of my eyes, fixed
instantly, forever,
as she clicks the picture,
turns and walks that walk,
without a wasted
backward glance, 
into the careening riptide
of merciless memory.