For days I have been sneaking over
to my ex-boyfriend's house to watch
outside his windowpane at the
shimmering chemistry between him
and his new girlfriend, fastened fingertips
running deeply across chiseled cheeks,
arched collar bones, harmonic hips, the
wave of equations sparking their hearts
into various worlds far from my existence,
seamless speeches sifting in the air towards
some scintillating creation, smooth languid
rhythms stroking serene spaces, as I pressed
my face against the steamy glass window.  
I could hear the half-naked syllables lingering
in liquid languages, immense climaxes floating
in gleaming patterns, flesh-colored skin rising
beyond Saturn, over uncharted galaxies,
stepping inside timeless illuminations.  And as
I gazed at the graceful gestures, how every
sudden movement stung my soul, how every
moment hung over my head, every beginning
never ending, enchanting kisses and hugs
shattering my mind, every swelling desire
flaming my veins, insane smiles drunken
and rained, as I slowly fell to the ground,
helpless hands clasping my chest, searching
for a missing heartbeat.