What she saw

Was a brief sight
and only a victim
of a moment
before a collection
of afterthoughts
like lingering dust particles
basking in the traces
of residual love
calling out her name
to watch the thick skin
swiftly splitting
a deliquescent branching
of everything else to come
While we need not forget
that forgetting
is as easy as dying
or the sweeping
of salt stain fragments
across uneven cheeks
warm to the idea of nothing
until a moment
crawls upon the lonely walls
of a thriving, singular memory
to make love for eternity
and span across her imaginary surface
the birth of her very first death
reaches through her broken chest
and resuscitates the heart
beating another