nothing ever ends.

we can't remember when our hearts were whole

or our eyes fully open

but we found each other in the broken glass

on the bar room floor,

writing poetry among ashes and cigarette butts

in this cold city,

what dies during winter,

can be resurrected in spring.

kissing ghosts, 

break the molds of what we once were.

bury it in the ground,

phantoms of whole hearts

and open eyes.

keep the darkness out.