nul - Prologue - one - Notes of Amber - two - Mondays - three - Rivers - four - Insomnia - five - Dan Bing Mornings - six - Clear Skies - seven - Moon & Ocean - eight - Does Desire Make Love to Passion or Chaos - nine - Ichor on Paper - ten - Steady Steady - eleven - A Second Floor Cafe - twelve - Late - thirteen - Pinks and Yellows - fourteen - Ocean’s Fate - fifteen - What is Love But Intentional Desire? - sixteen - Aging - seventeen - My Forever Line - eighteen - Shorter Texts - nineteen - A Journal Entry - Twenty - Leave some Ichor out for the Archeologists
Prologue
The sunrise slips into the living room. It’s hazy, we were up all night talking to make use of our last few hours. I’m squeezing your hand as your head nestles into my shoulder. The tears continue and I giggle a little.
“What’s so funny?” you say.
“I’m thinking of all the love poems I’m going to write about you when I leave” I kiss you on top of your hair.
You move to look at me, “Oh really, how many”
“Probably twenty”
“Only twenty?” you smirk.
Only twenty. Twenty chances for me to remember. Twenty steps for me to let go of you. When I return, I will be in a different space. We will be different persons. The sun knocks again and I have to pack my bags too.
I remember the creases of your eyes, I remember the way your thumb covered mine. That moment is just a memory, after all, half a hundred days ago. Half a hundred days - that’s how long I knew you. I loved you. However temporary, however momentary. I loved you, my moon, and it was worth everything.
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