Star-Crossed Lovers

Tell me what you think!

Star-Crossed Lovers

You always had the habit of disappearing
at odd moments,
like the middle of dinner
or three minutes before the clock in the hall
chimed three a.m.
It was disconcerting to say the least,
but I grew used to it.
And then
In your most brilliant exit of all
You catapulted yourself out
my window
in a Romeo-esque display,
Except you ended up on the sidewalk
instead of Mantua.

They say that’s how stars are formed—
a brilliantly red, blinding explosion,
enough to leave your eyes burned and your ears shattered
just like that,
the sound of a cannon, or a neck snapping, perhaps.
You became a starburst
outside my bedroom.
Except now
that place resembles more a
black hole
than a star,
to me.

Perhaps that is what happens
when the center of your universe
Explodes
on your sidewalk.

And now,
the little pink ‘plus’ sign blurs in and out of focus
as I cry on
the tiled bathroom floor.