Looking For The Grave (Poetry)

You said I’d never find it
your words a bitter pill
too quick your hands to dig it
too eager then to fill

and cover the spot over
no stone to mark the place
no proof it once existed
you wiped away all trace

Yet I have not forgotten
the way you said I would
I spend these cold nights dreaming
of days when life was good

Since memory’s grown fickle
I pray to gods above
for clues to that location —
just where you buried love