I wrote your name and
dated it with grief.
Because you will be
my long sentence
Awaiting your only death
That I am in love with.
The kind of love that has no
Borders or limits of time or
Braces of fear or stems of pitted
Roots or care for the missing.
I am missing you when you are outside
Me.
My skin is falling off and
You were there;
You are no longer here.
These lines are carrying the words
These words are becoming away;
I didn't notice that you left.
You’ve lodged my smiles and the keepsake
Of our distance has faded.
And our travels are closer our
touching is further
Our touching is gone.
No more listening to short breathes
No more long breathes of listening
No more notes no more poems
No more letters loaded with a
breathless love poem.
No more poetry because you
Have no more letters to say
Music to write.
The poetry of us the
Poetry of us the poetry of
Us is gone.
That love that made us cry it made
Us beg it made us lean forward.
My inside me covered itself
In indigo and Her blue
Cried velvet tears through
My beckoned fingertips.
My hands are no longer waiting
For yours; I am inside me
Again.
