An empty can of Icehouse
and a
vacant
packet of Bugle.
Why
do you leave such things?
Are they a reminder of my lost
indulgences?
Or
hints
toward the path of temptation?
Am I your ice-cold, Ice Queen who resides within your Icehouse?
Slews of
unanswered
inquisitions
is what resides within me.
The time before, you had
left
a lonely Icehouse inside a bleu gift bag.
My inquisition began there.
Do you
find
pleasure
in leaving me such
gifts?
Somehow
you knew that my favorite colour was blue.
And the Icehouse, it
forever
remains
an analogy to you.
I strive to understand its significance.
In
your life
and mine.
With no
avail.
Your voice
is unheard.
Yet
your cry
is
perceived.