Days before this

Days here are crisp, 
you can hear every footstep 
that echoes through empty streets
and they become difficult to swallow
and everyday I’m a little more shattered.
But the voice of my love fuses the days together like
melted chocolate 
filling a palace with its perfume, 
washing over shattered fragments of life
over angles of houses separated and contained,
molding them together once more,
and I miss the indulgence of days before this.