Every day I hope you fade away
A little and leave not even
The brittle traces
Of your so many faces
That shone in the mirrors of my mind.
With each day that turns to night
With the darkening of each morn’s light
I hope you come undone
All in one, unstuck
And out of luck in love
With me, with all
The anger that must turn
To love and all the forgiving
Left to be done.
There is lots of cleaning up to do
After you came and hurricaned through.
It will take its own bittersweet time,
I will pine, I won’t be fine. And then
There will the four-and-twenty hours
Bursting with flowers and my
Garden will grow in spite of the snow
And it will all be because you and me
Are finally history.