Here, piled carelessly in wooden, shadowed corners,
I found the skins you shed –
thick velvet, sliding silk, embroidered threads
on twisted taffeta, fine cotton burnished to transparency –

old garments, redolent with perfume, smoke
and sweat, worn in lighter times
then put aside as sirens howled the nights
and glad days darkened into cold, hard years

‘bring them out, let your treasures glow’
I begged but ‘no,’ you said, ‘put them away’ –
so each day wore the same dull uniform
and tear-marks stained those memories forlorn