Tears fall like shooting stars
Down the milky white sky that is her skin.
Into the ocean that is my heart-
My heart- that poured out for her before.
Now filled with soot, black and brown like highway dirt,
Ashes of a love that burnt itself out in an empty space
When she could not love back.
Too much pain to feel good she said.
It's too bad now that these stars fall alone.
Mine have all disappeared, dried up
Gone far before she could ever catch them.
They fell onto countertops piled with old love letters
Photographs, and notes scribbled on scraps of envelopes.
I sit watching tiny shooting stars fall from black brown eyes.
Her hair frames that white sky, a wet limp drapery.
The same hair that once fell across my face
And I would blow softly to make it float up.
Laughter now swept away and saddened breath put in its place.
How desolate this garden feels as this plays out
Already determined to shrink back what surrounds us to a tiny speck.
Turning it into a black hole, her and I sitting at the bottom,
I look up to catch a glimpse of light,
She folds into herself and floats away.