I never got to see you again—
Well, I still do,
Just not in the usual sense,
No longer do I catch the gleam of sun your eyes.

But that doesn’t matter anymore—
At least I thought it didn’t,
It is odd and scary to think of you in such a way,
but I thought it didn’t matter anymore.

Oh, but it is that place of sadness that defeats me—
It is quiet and your thoughts live there with me,
Where I wash away your sins from my back,
And where I learned I am nothing without you.

You become one with my own sins—
Where I tried to justify yet you would not listen,
It wasn’t intelligence that you sought,
It was just sweet nothings.

Gems, so precious they are—
Here in the abandoned alley where I would wait,
Where I would hear your voice coming from my phone,
“Hello?”—You’re still there.

And though I still ache for November,
Still, I am alone in the pale, grey summer morning,
Metal and concrete chills me to the core,
Three beeps—You’re not there.

Paradise, 2018