even heartache doesn’t last forever

How do I know I’m over him?
because after
an embarassingly
long time
my prose is about
elderly citizens
perched atop
carefully cultivated
vegetable patches
leguminous desserts
ancient houses
big business men
with fluorescent-pink
electronic devises
golden castles
proud princes
fishy flavors
swaying lanterns
warm spring
flowers
curious faces
bento boxes
bicycle baskets
claustrophobic houses
vs limitless paddocks
dainty chopsticks
trees, steams, mountains
but not him.