An emerald-empty bottle draws the sight
Much brighter than one dulled by waiting wine.
Its lack of promise captivates the light,
A prism for this recklessness of mine.
Do we save our sorrows on what can’t be saved;
Spend wishes on a star that sailed away?
Have our last words already been engraved:
“But there is so much more, I wished to say…”
Just as we pour away the sand of dreams,
But sift it through our hands once we have woken,
The song of love is truest heard in screams.
We keenest feel the heart, once it has broken.