dimming violet
and orange edges upon
slanted sidewalks
for an uphill walk home,

tonight's "lastness" is violent,
it's all I that I know,
replaying the sole sound of
a front door slowly being closed.

as the light between the night
and the horizon ebbs,
what's left becomes outer space,
the milky way flowing in.

I could drink the sight,
but with a shot of spite,
or bittersweetness, or some other
Way to rephrase our immense distance.

mourning is not quite the word,
as the odds between
me and the earth
felt like they were evening.

This world had given
But it's unclear if it takes
For I didn't lose the present,
I just put memories away.

Last night
Simply means the night before now
Even if it's our last night
We'll last through it somehow

Trying my best to cheer her up
Support her as much as possible
Yet I can't stop the inevitable
Staying only make things worst
It's too painful to see her pain
In the end I can't do anything for her

She needed to leave
And the only thing I can do
Is to support her decision

Our times were great until we parted. I just hope I left you better than when we started.
The Devil's work.

Dear Venus of my Heart,

The Solstice of blue, once flourishing with fiery flowers red, the petals of our garden froze. The chimney of our cabin of dreams, ambitious as Alexander's attainments, pops with the fog of the remnants of heat. We used to defy the now frozen roaring raging river of time and drink from the abstract notion of forever. For me, it felt like years embracing the elation of our entangled hearts, despite the days that went by. But reality is a grey mirror, and, in a hoard of wretched ways, I wronged you. Our Ecstasy, even extremely enlivening, was fleeting in behalf of my secret despair.

Imagine I a long-lasting love, a motto that guards me of any break. An unpierceable vowel, a couple for life, to live like lions loyal, bold and courageous yet entwined. So, to pour my emotions akin to the biblical flood and undergo an Ophelia, or even a Mimì, to subversion it distresses me. The motivations of mine may map me as an adamant, but I am a romantic, a believer of one true love. I just worry my machine shall yield to the snap of the edge and the ever yearly youthful yearning of restless consummation repels me. While passion is the feeling of the flesh, love is the feeling of the soul; one mate shall be fate. And my soul longs for you in spite of the lonely length that loosens our bonds.

Thus, out of my outrageous offense, I repent. I lament my vanity, this vividly voracious scruple of kissing way before and tragically after the priest's last words without a care for the bride. I apologize for this erroneous early enamor and the ceaseless insistence to the raw departure, leaving echoes of you in pictures of us. But now alas is time for my final parting, to let go because move on I shall. Heart breaks for heart's sake.

Forever and always,
H

PS: The fog shrouded our cabin of dreams. I feared going back to our place. But doubt no longer clouds my view, so I cleared the mist. Still, the chimney's black stains cannot be cleaned. Hope for this house rests on its grave. However, a new home is just around the corner. It is up to you to build it with me. I will be waiting.