Watching him walk away
Was like watching the rain start to fall on a perfect day
He was “error and fantasy”; tears and laughter
He was every windy day thereafter:
Storms have eyes but they cannot see,
I didn’t know, and nor did he,
Like the sky I opened, like the rain, I fell
And blew away in winter’s spell
The green in his eyes was a trick of the light
He was the worst hangover from my best nights
The first time I got high — couldn’t sleep but was dreaming
Making worlds out of words, language into feeling
Sometimes I think I smell him in the air
On the breeze, on the ends of my hair
But as the summer sun crests, as I watch springtime rescind,
I have to remember — it’s only the wind.