Morning comes
silently stepping
cleaning after dreams
running away.
She’s far from you
woken up
swallowing the last star
leaving the sky blank
undecorated.
Lost one more time
without a sign.
She’s left.
Her room
it was a cold one
running through
the desert of time
his hair
pulling closer
to find the absence…
There is no honey left
next to that tree.
