Death of Juliet.

She lies out there 

somewhere. 

Dead. 

But not forgotten. 

Her brother told me 

of her death. 

Cancer. 

I recall her eyes 

and smile, 

that look she gave. 

That kiss we first had. 

I remember moonlight 

and her lips. 

All undone now, 

but not so. 

In my mind at least 

she survives. 

That smile is seared 

into my memory. 

Somewhere she lies, 

beneath some earth 

and stone. 

Without me, 

all sadly, 

alone.