poems from a dead lover

I stopped writing poems
when i died to my lover
who would appreciate it
if I forgot what love was
or perhaps if I remembered
just with someone else
I'm sure that I understand
the need that some have
to forget and move on
but the poems came back
with a life of their own
not caring if I am constant
as consistent as sunset
or sporadic as a thunderstorm
despite my best intentions
The poems are written
one after another
because though love failed
love abides within me
that allows no space
to love anyone else
I never want to stop
isolation notwithstanding
what would result
that final death of me
and no one wants to find
poems from a dead lover