Tomorrow has slipped awayfrom your eyes.I can see itin the distant stare,the apathetic blankness,the way you sit beside meand somehowaren't there.Your love is as deadas the orchidsin the trash.I keep lookingfor somethingbehind your eyes,some little sparkthat saysI'm still here.But...

I set eight places that evening, though only seven of us were expected. The good plates were on the table, the silver polished, the candles burning low enough to make the room feel older than it was. I had...