She knocks on another lover’s door
Although she’s never seen him before.
After a drunken carouse
She loses her blouse
As with other lovers before.
His mirror has reflected back
The white and black.
Another lover passing through his door
He’s never seen before.
He gives her a token.
His love is spoken,
As so many times before
In cold hard gold
Which opens more than doors.
K Morris - Poet 
Poignant, and sad.
Thank you Vivienne. I’m glad you enjoyed my poem.
Love must not be forever. It’s sad, but the truth. xx Michael
Some people do love one another throughout their lives, and the remaining lover continues to love after the death of their soulmate. But you are, I believe right in the sense that when both lovers are dead love is, in a sense dead also.
😉 ‘Wise words, Kevin! Thanks and best wishes, Michael
Best wishes to you to, Michael.