You always wear neutral colors,
you are a forest of gray and brown,
and your bed is always empty.
Elizabeth was right.
You keep your guard up higher than castle walls,
and your hands are always buried in your pockets.
on the grounds of the school where you met,
when you were carrying three months of salary spent.
And I know
that she found out
her father would never allow
such a poor family name to lay claim on his only daughter.
So, I know she never showed
and how you stayed for hours.
Like a mariner trapped at sea.
When dawn reclaimed the sky,
you dragged your body home,
collapsing, at last, alone in your bed.
You woke after little sleep,
shook the weight off your shoulders,
and drove yourself down to the harbor
You walked out on the pier
where the wind howled and shared your grief
like it was part of your body.
And you slowly removed
the diamond ring from inside your pocket,
and you buried it at sea.