Is This The Treatment Of Symptoms Or A Touch Of Divine

I spent the night looking at your form
at rest across the couch.
Not actually seeing,
just fitting memory to the shadows clinging
to the curves of your face
You were so close.
Night spies through these windows
The luminary throwing white on your warm body.
You said, "You haven't aged one bit!"
How can I?
When all I do is bask in distant memories of young love.
You;
flat-chested and fearless.
And I?
I still fight, flat-footed and faltering.
What pried your song from your heart?
Now all that remains are sighs in your sleep;
always in E-flat.

- Daryl Goh