I had a lover once who called me his Fireworks,
He would trace love poems into my skin, whispering
Stories of his past, our presence, but never our future.

The night I left, he drove me to the beach where we danced
To the midnight waves. There, buried within the cold sand
Is the slice of his soul that belongs to us.

Sometimes, when the lonely hour strikes, my mind wanders back
To the lonely boy who drew rocket ships and traced
Constellations of sun beams into a used notepad.

Sometimes, when the alcohol is heady, I can catch glimpses
Beyond the rim of my rosé tinted glass, I see
The muscles of his back ripple, and I know

The lonely boy who loaned me a soccer sweatshirt,
His prized possession a symbol of his belonging, who
Belonged to me, belongs to me.

I had a lover once that I took for granted,
Printing permanence into what was only meant to be temporary.
His desperate yearning a precious memory.

Sometimes, I even remember who he is.
Mostly, I hope he’s doing better
And I pause over sentiments I’ll never write.

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