The Ten O'Clock Vulnerabilities

I wish these spirits, like flashbulbs in the dark
Instead were purple roses, to soothe the moon inside your skin

I have no feelings left to wash your brow
They've sublimated into words inside this poem -
Without you even Mykonos is a urinal
But I lay one hand on you and there are nebulae in my heart,
No deep fluorescent fish not swimming in my blood

Someday my poem may grow up to be tears