In the hazy twilight of
Dark fine trees and car lights
Returning home
To
Low eyes
And poor jokes,
Stood the silhouette
Of a girl who came short
In her fine room,
One last time,
To clean out
A mess.
Can’t fix it.
Just let be it
With future hazy.
Let us buzz around
With eyes low
Laughing to poor jokes.
no tears
Last box packed
After we unpacked
How each of us were.
Sadness dripped from our faces
No Tears
And its vapor loomed through the room.
To say goodbye
We took the books
From our beginnings
And lay them in a pit.
And—black flowers
From burning book
We made
To smile again
In hazy air
From smoke and tears
Embracing the silhouette girl
We sent certainty to meet her again
Maybe not between these fine trees
Or her fine room,
But we’ll never fall short
When it comes to being with her.
And everything became fine.
Well, not okay, but clear.