The days fell apart
Like eyelids and broken hearts
Opened wide and filled with dark
Inside a vacant home.
The nights were often long
Like rope and summer songs
Running fast and warm like rain
In the middle of a storm.
The oceans have since dried
Like sand and empty skies
Drained with bones inside
A once majestic space.
Her finger draws to close
A promise and a rose
Dressed in thorns and blooming slow
In a garden now erased.
Moonlit Poetry 