Your promises were the stuff moonbeams are made of.
Maybe that’s why i didn’t see through them.
Now I sit here in halves
while across the harbor
the winds change
and the sea ripples underbelly
rounding of pebbles, small as planets.
Did you know the star we gazed at
is many times the size of Mother earth?
And by the way do you still wish on falling stars?
Because the last time i did
it turned out to be a burning jet
with 200 aboard
screaming their heads off.