The sharp bursts are fading,
The sodium wavelengths of fireworks
Into the darkening sky.
Although the perpetual nag remains,
The pressure of his arms are loosening their grip
One more touch,
Her eyes are falling to these increasingly habitual
Solitary sleeping patterns,
Blue irises bright as they dart
To and fro
Through the potential possibilities,
The pangs once ever growing,
Dulling to the mildest of thuds.
These are the facts.
I am over you.
Finished. Done. Complete.
But no cover can replicate your inescapable heat.