The clouds were striving to write your name,
but the sun pierced through them and tore their aim.
I looked to the grass to see my feet,
to find the ash of the bridge you burned under me.
My head refuses to turn west
because great things are set ahead for the best.
The intricacy of the silence is beautiful.
I’m neighbored by the love that is truthful.
The clouds abdicated, failed their attempt,
and the sun is still beaming.
Now I’m focused on me. I’m kempt,
ceased nightmares, inbound dreaming.
I won’t miss what we had.
I won’t be sad.