The Black Eyes of Love

It was a seashore day,
The cement was long and expansive,
The lines of clothes strung high to the ceiling,
In neat little rows on a Goldfrapp set.
The buffets neverending.

I saw you in the subway,
I could feel you reaching for me,
From the back window,
As the car rolled away.

Dust.

Maybe it's not always about me,
You said,
Maybe you were right.
But you held me in your arms last night,
Our arms mingling,
Kissing you on the cheek after I saw you.

And then the cops came,
And you said that's the last time you take Haley,
And through the large broken window
I climbed on wooden boxes,
Knocking your black statue to the floor.

As it cracked,
I heard my name.
And I remember sitting with you at the picnic table
Watching Dan and Amber,
and crying, "I'll always be jealous of you."
You didn't say anything. You sat there still.

And as the car rolled back,
And I flew over the cliff,
And back to New College,
My fame was inglorious.
It was too much.
It was impossible.
I cried for the days when you casually dropped your coffee cup,
And I knelt to retrieve it.
The days when we had the seashore in our hair,
Your brown eyes hugging me.
Those eyes that turned black.
Though a black of beauty.
A supreme beauty
That reflects the light back onto me and then you.
Ping pong into dust.

You are gone.
I remember those eyes
More than I remember much
And I know that
In our hearts
We'll always be together.
But not till then.