Smoke left to curl against the sky
Toes crinkled under shoes
Funnelled out and contemplating
All he had to lose
She had left and flown as whispers leave
The lips of those who hush
An atlas crushed unto her breasts
No guilt of burning trust
Bitter had she left him
Like the dregs from PG-Tips
And, burned into his memory,
Her swaying, leaving hips
His anchor was stripped away
He was flotsam in a sea
He shuffled out and left the edge
"Nothing now, for me."