The fine hairs on the back of your neck
like wheat in the wind
waving from Elysium
an old and elusive myth
a song stuck in my throat
for the rest of my life --
worth the world's weight in gold
worth a lifetime of losing out
worth waking up forever again without you.
Sometimes I am drained by dreams of you,
drowned by your passing
and sometimes lifted up
dragged from the shoals
and made monumental
by the glow and the afterglow
of who you were
and what you are now.