I used to lie awake at night
and wonder how it was to be in love.

I'd see her eyes
and dream a lovesick lullaby—

Today I sleep and do not dream.

I hide in transience,
fleeting as a ghost in May
who asks the empty seat next to him

"Does it make you happy
that we see the same moon?"

We do not walk in the sun—
it is harsh and unforgiving,
but the night hides scars—
the night heals hearts.

What if the nights dissolved in the sea?

I could wake up tomorrow with virgin lips
untainted by broken promises—
thirsting for first love—

thrilled to simply dance
though I know not the steps.