There's a lump
in my throat
from swallowing
rivers of silver
rivers of metallic
frost
and nocturnes

shattered glass
in pebbled streets
where mirrors mean nothing
and you're always looking
outwards

There's a lump in my throat
from holding onto
love that does
not exist
anywhere within
my dimension or
the next

Where your touch is so far
lost, a
sunken ship,

a river flowing past
another "tell tale"
heart

where you've been
washed away,
swept away,
called away
by the waves of
nothingness.

you're so far gone.