Toast

Toast
By Tatiana Pahlen

I knew from the start
to stay away
There is no cure
for the damaged souls;
Our flames in November
chilled in May.
I smashed my receiver
to elude your calls

I nurture my crime
for the time loss
Remaining calm,
I confine in wine:
"Rest in peace,
sweet memories,"
I'm raising a toast.
My pillows are dry,
Why are my eyes so moist?