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i cannot write about tonight
my words can’t describe the rain
like other poets have done in their rights
it simply soaks my ground in his absence

i cannot write about tonight
my mind can’t remember his face
the way my body craves his scent
and honesty in some of his kisses

where does love go when it can’t stay
to the past where all my pain rests
to the future where no dream awaits
does it simply break apart in our own ways

men and women pass me by
oblivious to their own umbrella
i apologise each time they hit my eye
for my existence seems to be an error

i cannot write about tonight
while his shadow is on the run
i cannot right the wrong it’s done
to the light, to my solitary heart

d.o.
london, january 2026