He was like Icarus. He was my Aurora.
I tried to pin him down, Into a butterfly collection. Make him a wish, as white as the night. A notion, as blue as the yew.
He only settles in memory, Of an antique mind; Full of lifelong longing.
His vanishiment, to a new light spectrum. Where feelings are not Pangs of pain, Only continuate bliss. Where he remembers my name, Not the taken.