these crisscrossing streets
were once ours, our screaming
neon, the dazzling infinite
lights but time

she weaved
herself between
the clench of my fist
in the shape of his
absence, that grows,
grows

blood only
multiplies while we
splutter, incoherent
with the clarity -

your heart,
it does not beat
for me anymore.

(A.H.Z)