Nary a whisper

My death may be just a footnote in the pages of history
Your feelings are no longer a mystery,
For when I reside in the sky that's blue,
Nary a whisper in the wind for you.

I miss you often, not rarely,
Your smile whispers that you still remember me, albeit barely,
Dyed in the wool, your actions are,
From who you were once, you have drifted afar.

Describing your beauty is no mean feat,
Yet reconciling your actions has me beat,
The white dress and that smile,
Have you even noticed that I have been gone for a while?

I sit and ponder over the course of my life,
The scar still haunts, where you slipped in the knife,
Faded pain aggrandizing the sweetness of your kiss,
The touch of your skin, the silky breath, I still miss.