Honey

Goodbye, Cristina.

... 

You gatecrashed into
Our monochromatic days, and
Added strokes of lemonyellow laughter
That shall belly-dance through the summer-lit streets
Of our magically realistic memories,
And recollections of your diamond tongue
Shall tint our evenings to come
With a crimson, sombrero-wearing passion.

My only regret
Are the unborn conversations
That lie still in the pregnant space between us.