Put it down. Don't rifle through a love gone. 

Let it be exactly what it was

Let it rest in a vaulted pantheon

Without glum grief, nor thundering applause.

Don't rake through all the things they said

It will anchor you in memory

Nor curate, exaggerate

Them in warm, nostalgic reveries.

Let it lie, untouched and out of reach 

Continue being in your present 

Or love gone, the past, will future beach

Like an ant, it will amber you in lament.  

Arch Hades.