What is left of you

There is a bit of you inside of me:
a fading flame of hope within
a pale canvas of your soul painted with my hopes
while paddling my plans through water.
Thirsty liquid love
slowly evaporating…
A honey tangerine kiss,
and your tongue made of tea
breaking the silence.
Eucalyptus and spearmint
remain on my skin.
And still you ask what is left of you?
Two cycles of the moon
with and without you.