When the heart breaks
It crumbles
Into nostalgic dust
Scattered
By a timely gust
Onto glistening city streets
And its sodium-vapour lamps
In the haze around the moon
And the salty mist of the seas
In particular bottled fragrances
And certain sound frequencies
In the place where it began
And where it truly started off
Try as you may to move on
Some day,
you will inevitably cough
As your watery eyes adjust
In this little cloud of dust,
Forcing you to concede
All efforts shall remain futile
Till you continue to breathe