Lights on the Water

I don't remember your last word before devouring my soul, nor your last gaze, yet still printed on the blue, those repugnant grimaces that climbed your ego endure, from when you abandoned me begging for the last kiss. I hope your shadows on my pillow are erased from the nights, or your cold steps, or your tedious speeches of grey heroes. May your morning depressions not return, nor those stealthy Monday exoduses. Let them dissolve once and for all, the mysteries that kept us together, let the corrosive past dilute us. Let your returns stay away, what you taught me to be, is, at last, what I learned to elude. It was all just lights on the water, half forces, another life that never took off.