now you’re lost somewhere in a city i don’t know,
rolling in bed to find her arms
and her kisses,
darling they taste
nothing like our cigarettes
and 3 am emptiness
filled with vodkas and poetry.

and now, you’re lost in the sheets
and in her vanilla scent
and at the way she’d softly
say your name
while sleeping,
as if a primordial star
calling for the moonbeam.

and now you’re lost from me,
darling,
and you’re still
there,
unlearning our stars
and i’m still
here
calling constellations by your name.