Those past passions held poorly, though, and you
Became something you Never wanted, could not imagine
And the life you could not live
Was eclipsed by greener grass and brighter stars.
Give me gunmetal sunsets after the red fades–
You can keep thumbing the pages of appendices
of miracles that did not happen (never would have happened)
in your catalog for future miseries.
Pause the pondering to watch the rise and fall of the
empire of each day, sick of thinking about you when the
air goes out of the room
And a thousand sleepless Sunday nights