We ate the sunrise for breakfast
water black like motor oil
before the sun had a chance
to wake up and ignite it
and a girl that looked like coming home  

The hands of a best friend
holding a sparrow-delicate flower-
could have been my heart with
how little it looked
in her palms

Fleeting, fleeting
and gone

I watched, standing alone on my island
as she looked back
winked
loved me
and left.

Back tomorrow, always
for breakfast
to eat the sunrise
and put the sun himself
to shame

The stuff she's made of
it's not any material found on earth

She was supposed to be me,
I think,
before we were both made
since
I miss her like I miss my breath
when it gets knocked out of my chest.