beautiful boy,
blue watercolour drying
on a longer letter later
kind of love,
you were the mapmaker,
the candlestick breaker
the butcher, the baker
the sky up above
and you’ve nothing to say to me nowadays
now that we’ve both gone our
separate ways
but I still remember the golden blaze
of the sun glinting off of
your crown in the nights as
you looked from the lighthouse
down on our bright town
and gently the soft sound
of breaking resounded
as crumbling down
our whole world in the ground
and you swore we’d be found,
both so lost
in the light of our
longer letter later
kind of love