death is a park bench
on another muggy morning
as the sky erupts
with the fire
in your eyes
all that is left
of me
is a puddle of regret
congealing in the frigid wind
of your absence
you:above hiroshima
me:the crater after
we both know
how that feels
you freefalling
me going about my day
then light flashes
i feel as if
all i can ever be
is the afterimage
in the wake
of your smile
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
This is real. If it’s not, you must just know. Thank you so much for sharing.
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I hate it, but I think we all have been the afterimage.
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This is true, me too.
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looooove this!! Way cool imagery!
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Thanks T
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