There’s a grave by the side of the road 

L. M. 

To Amour 

There is something so melancholic  

About the anonymity of death 

But I wonder  

Is Amour 

The one below, 

Nestled in the damp and dark 

Laid to rest by the highway 

Kissed one last time  

Before they sank below the earth 

Or is Amour 

The one above, 

The single pallbearer 

The weeping priest 

Who fixed their lover’s hair 

Before leaving them in the dirt 

How desperately romantic 

To have a death named for you 

So adored, that before they were gone 

They knew everything was for you 

So treasured, that once you were gone 

There was only one thing left to say 

You were loved 

Perhaps Amour 

Is both and neither 

A plaintive name 

For a life so full of love 

That it lasts