I'm not completely sure where I'm going with that,
that idea that love is the sky and the universe colliding!
and I traps up and down this boulevard shouting
"how are we supposed to get back to it?
life without her? tell me that!" but the streets
don't speak back, they bang: with the racket of
a thousand lost loves. all crowding into the street to
ask they exact same questions. all dying to get the disease!
and that's how they all get out there, those stars
are there to heal our hearts.

if poetry would make her love me I would write:
"I hope you burn in the fire I am setting.
with this pen on my paper and the boy in bed."