White wine and blonde hair.
Thats all I saw for months
after the first night you kissed
me goodbye last spring.
You were the first thing
I loved after falling out of love.
One bench.
One river.
One bottle of wine.
Two people.
Eight months of pain
ahead of me
that I could have never imagined
would have ended the way it did.
But for the rest of my life I would
see white wine and blonde hair.