I went there without you.
She first spoke to me in the Tower
after poetry and drink.
We discussed broken hearts
and unlovable souls
and how waiting can destroy
even the deepest of loves.

She said I was the lark, ascending
(but the ground pulled at my feet).

She was beckoned toward
a city halfway around the world,
where the markets are always open
and the oceans are always warm.

We still rise to the same sun,

I told her through a screen
as she traveled through
narrow streets on a city bus.

We still fall to the same moon,

she said back, shrouded
in the morning mist.