i sat down with a blue pen and my gray eyes
and waited for a sign
like a silent vessel on a rocking sea of his undoing,
crests and swells breaking over my seaglass heart
with all the urgency of this waning love

so please,
don’t tell me “everything changes with the dawn”
because one day, when the moon stands still
and the tides release their push&pull
no day will rise

so when he begins to fall apart,
i start to pay attention
to things like aches and writer’s block
and patterns in the sky.

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