It has never been so hard,

to sit,

on the brick,

By Him.

With the sickness, 'from Me,

to You,

with L...'

Dark sky on the bridge.

Concrete,

shaking,

with anticipating eyes.

The star,

ignites.

His hands are sweet, mine

still,

twitching.

And those eyes have never been,

so deep,

so Black,

so closed.