I walked out into the garden
starry night and found an emptiness
and green firework flailing up there.
I tried not to cry but heard
myself repeating hollow syllables.
"Happy new year!" he said, and looked
away. "Hmm" I mused. My thoughts tangled, growing and had a novel
of beauty in them, and an empty bed:
sad songs, poetry, tears, dreams;
only words and suffocation.
My mutterings were never truly understood.
I took more night cold beer,
I noticed, while I was drinking it,
it also included sharp ice dead stars.

More drifted into their boats to oblivion
including you. He seemed distant
and I felt bad. More truths
breathed in and out in starry dark black hopefulness.