we talked about everything
and nothing at all
be it in bed
or a bathroom stall

going to sleep
staying awake
we did more
than we thought we could take

m
o
o
n

and i


he liked my poems
and i adored his
words from the heart
sealed with a kiss.

i miss his poems
the sun and the moon
our sunlets

he likes my poems
and i like him.

"im lonely, so lonely."
the saphire cries.
"the moon is dark, gone frome the skies."
she glistens and sharpens in her hue.

"if only, if only"
the gemstones reply
"you would be moved, we could see your eye"
they believe a change is due

yes only, if only, the change would come

his words tangled into his heart, pulling and strangling his blood.
the ink would spew through his eyes, and when he got his hands on paper,
haunting tales of sweet creatures and punishment from devinity.
his stories meant more then anything they taught us to learn.
his words were the things that he left behind.