I thought of blue oceans and grey clouds as I passed the palace where I first kissed my latest unhappy ending.
We held hands outside of the hospital where I was born,
and he told me that the glow of my eyes made him feel frail and far too old,
so I took the ribbons from my hair and tied his mouth to mine,
an endless kiss that would silence his statements,
which may be correct,
but were inconvenient.
His voice is hauntingly familiar.
I’ve heard it before,
because he’s been mine before,
so now I’m getting familiar again with the ghost of heartbreaks past,
and her endless drone about how it could all be done any second.