LIKE LEAVING LOVE

Its true ! yes!
More comforting can be this chair,
Than the sight of her finger running through her hair.
That scrible board can be more soft in its babelic poetry,
Than the song she sang with a heart so free.
Those post-it-notes, and the words on them.
Each pregnant with a story.
Smooth motherly table, more homely than her embrace.
Its not just a place where I worked from.
Its where I lived a second life from.
Yes! A place can be drearer than a face.
And leaving hereis like leaving love.