The butterflies have long flown away
leaving my stomach an empty calm
and longing for the time I knew no better–
When diving head first and blind into love had no option;
When I’d always have Robert Smith with whom I’d wrung the misery;
When tears could find me.

Now I ride bikes alone and silent
across leaf-caked concrete
past the hum of metal halide streetlamps and yellow blinking signals
and rally comfort in just that my heart still beats.

Life is beautiful. But it is more beautiful to be shared.