To Jes

the silhoette
of a broken heart beats
to the sorrowful windsong
emminating
from the cracks of
"cannot be closed" windows
boiling thoughts
despite a summer's winter
condensing
apon the clouded panes
collecting
into tear drops
trickling down
leaving trails
in the mists
of love.

but you still breathe.
your breath still dances
with the unseen swirls
of the air's landscape
ebbing
with the bittersweet currents
of your hurricane's
close cousin:
a lucid dream
on a fresh, clean
canvas.