Have you ever looked up
and felt insignificant, absolutely
minuscule to the gaze
of a hundred million
unblinking eyes?
I’ve been feeling this way lately
when I’m in your arms, like I am
destined to be one rivulet
streaming through your
canyon embrace.
I’m sorry that I cannot
say goodbye in person,
my farewells already
etched into the aortas
of your heart.
You knew this was coming though,
predicted it in the way I started sleeping,
arms curled to my chest, my legs closer
to the bed’s welcoming edge.
But you have to remember something, dearest,
something that you’ll question with a hundred
different forms of punctuation, the taste of
doubt already curling around your
tongue.
I am carrying your laughter in my veins,
your admiration in a Ziploc bag,
while you remember me in the shadows
of street corners, the midnight wanderings
of strangers with too much time.
I have constructed my fate into a lasso
and hung it on the moon, each beam
guiding me through the somberness
that has plagued my head, a gloaming
that has labeled itself “Tragedy” with
spider-like fingers and scratching
fingernails.
I am walking across the embers of
animosity, the charcoaled remains of regret,
trying to find a shard of solace that doesn’t
begin in the darkness of your pupils.
I am going wandering,
your laughter coursing
through these rivered veins,
an echo held gently in the canyon
that is your embrace.
I promise never to forget the
tenderness of your arms around
the sorrow that is my willowed
waist, your name carved into
the tenderness of its trunk.
I am going wandering,
your laughter coursing
through my hollow
veins.
