unread love letters

today, the sky has no depth;

a vast blanket of simple

nothing. he holds no fish with crowns, no castles with tilted turrets.

snubbed by a disappearing sun,

he begins to weep;

salty tears sizzling

on fresh tarmac.

polluted drops glide

down blades

of quivering grass.

they say the sky

will still be heartbroken tomorrow, mourning

the departure of a pernicious sun.

embracing a starry quilt

he wails, sends messenger planes

(which leave behind white skid marks)

after his missing lover.