The Sun, a Child's balloon

The sun, a child's balloon,
broke free of dawn's soft hand,
floating over rooftops—
a lily in the sky's blue mouth.

I watched from the window,
the air still heavy with sleep,
morning’s quiet dust
settling into the folds of my clothes.

Your absence, too, was a dust—
the only inheritance you left behind.
I wore it like a coat,
thick, made for colder days
than any I had known.

When the world woke,
it woke without you.
The streets stirred,
alive with ghosts of lesser grief.

I walked among them,
a statue in sneakers,
the city crumbling quietly
under the weight of light.

The sun, a child's balloon,
broke free again—
drifting above the waking world,
a lily blooming in the sky's blue mouth.

I watched,
and your absence watched with me.