Consevatory Conversations; Not A Poem In Mind (1) Poem by Not Long Left

It is on nights like this
when I sit back and reminice:

The silence in our conversations
as the rain fell around us
The droplets trickled down,
following a route like they had
been here before.

Much smoking was done then,
we would have lost each other
in the grey fumes if we had not
followed the sound of our voice

There was no need for poetry,
For everything was a poem.
Everthing we said and thought.
we shared together.
Not apart, with pen and paper.

Chess pieces that had never
seen battle refelcted under
the frozen light of the moon.
We only went to war in our minds.

Everything that is here on the
white of the page, would have
stayed in our hearts.
If only you would have remained.

So now, deep into another night,
with just the rain to remind me
that things still exist.
I share my memories
with the unresponsive blank
face of the page.