The Night

The sharp bursts are fading,

The sodium wavelengths of fireworks

Slowly coaxed

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,

Gradually

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.

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