Gone again, you've left with the sun,
my run away muse, my half-written poem.
The sky is such a devastating shade of blue
and so is the moon when I open my eyes.
Your ardent soul still sings
the music of an endless age
and I dance to the sound of it,
divine upon the tongues of leaves.
When all that shines has faded,
and my tears for you become the stars,
I will imagine my heart to be
the only living thing among them.
My lover, my imperfection, my bluest desire,
how desperately I've searched
for that last, torrid line...
But all I found was you:
the most beautiful love poem I've never written