maybe it’s nothing
that feeling inside
not cold
not numb
beyond sorrow
beyond sorry
beyond what once
  may have been love

I could tell you
that you were beautiful
that you are beautiful still
and say these things
while only speaking
the lost languages of truth

you are every definition
  of everything
     known about love

the sonnet of the sun
the lullaby of the moon
the secret of the stars aligned
the marriage of heaven and hell

the reason tears know joy
the pleasure found in pain
the addiction of love to lust
the devotion of lust to love

the ghosts of the bottom
  of the sea
the mad gods at the end
  of the world
the child alone at the beginning
  of everything
the last death
  of all things

or maybe its nothing
that feeling inside
the dream of something
that once was

maybe you are tortured
   and trapped
a ghost among the living
  the last living thing
    among the dead

maybe you are too beautiful
  too much like Van Gogh
a garden of bloomed irises
  staring up
at a whirling sky of stars

a quite pile of letters
full of passion
  and rage
   and love
     and beauty

a desperate search
for the heaven
you know
is beating wildly
somewhere in your heart

or maybe its nothing
that feeling inside

that moment
when we found something
more beautiful than love

and then like nothing

it was gone