The horizon ahead is painted with gold.
Waves of fuchsia and lilac meet...

Your eyes remind me of Jacó;
They seize me like the moon does the waves...

I used to whisper my wishes to the moon,
Spoke to her as if her craters were your face...

Your laugh could woe even Cupid himself,
Make the Devil drop a slave to his knees...

Two lonesome seeds adrift in separate gales
Wore their hearts upon uneasy sleeves...

Nine years later and it feels the same,
The rhythm in my chest when I see your name...

I can’t look at your pictures
They’re so bittersweet...

Leave it to me to cave further into myself,
Only I did not think I could sink any deeper...

She made me delicate.
She peeled back layers of protection...

I miss honeysuckle and wild berry bushes,
Carefully climbing trees in the front yard...

I taste like burnt coffee on your tongue
Like a cherry plucked too early from the tree...

Sometimes it’s apocalyptic.
I’m there, in the eye of the storm, momentarily...