He’s not her first
She isn’t his last
She’s not his first
Nor is he her last
The more she ponders
The less she cries
The more he knows
The less he asks why
If he chooses
To let her go
He saves her at once
From saying no
Thus how her love
For him will fare
Is up to him
For too much, she cares
What they have now
Is meld from gold
Several moments
They will never lose hold
But what she can do
If when he does stop
Is remind herself
Scrolling back up to top.
mind stripped bare 
Your words painted a pretty clear picture of what seems like inevitability and frality in this relationship.
I really like how the idea of ‘scrolling back up to top’ connected with the first stanza. It’s almost like the reader is ‘her’ in a way.
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Thanks, that’s pretty much how the “cue” is supposed to work! 🙂
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when it is gone all we can do is try to find something, anything to hold on to. Survival instincts of love. Beautifully expressed thoughts.:)
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Thank you for your comment 🙂 . I agree with you that it’s a survival instinct of love to hold on to remnants of what was had.
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Wow…i just love love love the first four lines.. ❤
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Thanks 🙂 . That stanza’s easy to recite isn’t it? (although those lines don’t exactly make up the type of mantra you’d want playing on loop…)
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haha..:D yeah! wouldn’t work in loop..but some beautiful stories just get lost in between…they are not the firsts and lasts..
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That itself was beautifully said :’) . Now to be in the mood to write about those beautiful stories lost in between … Haha
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Would require a lot of pondering gal..:) 😀
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And a lot of time too 😛
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