This was not what was to be, I thought surely the moon spoke clearly. That the stars were aligned in the birth of our hearts. But now I see, as tears come to be. That we shall no longer breathe, neck to neck.
But rather, between the spaces of our broken hearts. Where the sun never meets the moon and dreams never meet reality. We shall be but ghosts in our memories of either. We will sleep with empty arms, feeling the air become brisk in midnight's breath.
Already so lonely, and only a night apart. I feel your heart, as if it is mine. Pale are my lips as we have not kissed. I see the lonesome eyes of grief settle upon my hips. Replacing what would be, our moment of bliss.
I cry, oh I cry, but quickly replace my tears with whiskey sips. Staring at the empty side, at which you used to rest. Our music idle in the background of my mind. I replay our dances, our laughs, as if they are but something that just went amiss; waiting for the ship, to return…