eighteen - Shorter Texts
it's summer nowthe days are longer
and our texts are shorter
i cant quite remember
the way your face felt
when i traced my fingers
from the top of your nose
across your forehead
and lingered on your cheek
eroded bodies
are often forgetful, aren't they?
nineteen - A Journal Entry
Your kiss lingers. The taste of sky blue with a hint of green Valley.
This moment must end, like all the others. I think the ends of moments
are quite beautiful, actually. In ending moments we can decide, with absolute certainty, that this is a moment worth ending. We don’t mark ends of what is not significant to us, after all. A cute little bow wraps up what was the best surprise present, soon to be passed on from day to day as a photo. Woven into a book, even. Perhaps colors will fade but certainly not by much. A memory is a gift to tomorrow me, a goodbye is proof these nights carried weight of truth.
Besides, it brings me comfort to know the temorariness of this few seconds, the end of this fantastical adventure, means I can’t hurt you anymore. Or perhaps this goodbye is the last time I hurt you. Is this a cowardly thing to admit? Most definitely. But I am facing the reality of who I am, how I need to change, and I am simply hoping we meet again under the right circumstances, where I am a better person - incomplete and still as emotional as always, sure, but better. Just a better person than who I am now. And in that moment I know we will see the new moon together.
twenty - Leave some Ichor out for the Archeologists
we shared a street corner
it was raining ever so slightly
your body slipped through my hands
and it was a quiet fall
just like before
you whispered in my ear
“you’ve left carvings
and inscriptions on my soul”
my heart broke in that moment
for the second time that month.
carvings and inscriptions
are for archeologists to find
carvings and inscriptions
are to be buried under well written sediment
layered and folded and creased
poem after poem after poem.
“I’ll see you tomorrow”
Problem is,
Midnight Rain Washes All
And I particularly love the colors of today’s sunset.
But I leave anyways. I must. I check my bags for
charger, phone, water bottle
but i never looked to take
our silent moments and shared stories
those are intentionally left behind
for us to find in a year or maybe
we’ll leave it up to the archeologists.