You should not have allowed her to
Leave you alone and go.
The sun that filled up the
Chair and the beaker of the horizon.
Why didn't you cling to it
As a crown for the frivolity of the evening?
Here you are struck by the blueness,
That has infatuated you and overflowed upon you.
Tour chair is empty,
Your foam is the pearls of tears
Here you are alone,
The sky cannot protect you
Nor can the washed sand
Ward off desolation.