The Blank Verse of a Million Times

Lit Up — May’s Prompt: Nostalgia

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Nostalgic, lands of love and hope she walks,
her lips, a million times have mouthed his name,
with quiet breaths reshaped to restless fireflies.
Across the sky her teardrops fly and flee,
they’re shining like stars, in search of him too.
She trusts on placid oceans tiny jars,
her heart on paper, bleeding words in form;
their drops forming wishes, seeking his scent.
In paper lanterns through the air she sends
delusive hopes, his distant voice to find —
echo heard a million times in her dreams.
Odyssean jaunts she won’t ever rue, for
without his smile, a million times she dies.