in a few words, i’ll try to say

what you were, before you both,

in the inevitable fashion of things,

gather nothing of you and go on away


she was the dim shooting star of dusk,

never witnessed by warm-handed lovers,

never coiled by curious blue eyes,

fallen, and forgotten by swords of rust


you, I know well, in terms of stars,

are the blinding spectacle of

a fateful fire in absolute abyss

magnificence as sirius seen from mars


(to be continued)