I’m not sure I believe
that one day the void will close,
the glass will be filled
and all will smell of roses
with the sky lightened by
another new morning

better to have loved and lost,
easier said than done,
adrift in the tide with our
memories washing against me

The inevitability of the kiss
of sea and sand
seems less romantic
and more a nuisance
now an endless cycle all too familiar

never entering my mind that
the day would come
when I’d be drained of all hope
for the rekindling of what was

and god, we really were something