A serrated resurrection from a gloomy action (Day 83 of 100 -- poetry challenge)

There is nothing left but a silhouette,
the fringe from an old drape,
an empty house —

a thin line.

I plucked thoughts of you
as they crept in until I forgot
the memories of you.

A tattered ribbon bleached by the sun.
A blown-out portrait,
fuzzy edges.

I closed the windows and locked the doors.
I swept the dust and covered the furniture.
I painted the mirrors.

There is nothing but an old house with old things
and a phantom breeze
when storms come rolling through.

I admire the structure and strangeness it evokes
and continue on,
without you.

• All pieces are newly crafted and posted shortly after in adherence to the rules of the challenge. All the photos are mine unless otherwise stated.

• Entry for Day 83 of 100 Days of Poetry Challenge by @d-pend.

• Join the Steemit School here: https://discord.gg/yZvYjfM organized by @dobartim on Discord.