photo: dunmore caves, ireland
i hang up a few seconds
after my voice breaks
and you do not notice.
i would never leave you,
and you would never leave me
but sometimes that's not how separation works.
// sometimes, it's the discovery of earth
light catching on the morning dew of a wildflower --
// sometimes, it's the seasons and land,
and all the things we swore it wouldn't be --
// sometimes, it's the imperceptible release of breath after exchanged
missed calls, untapped voice messages, late texts --
i guess
what i cannot say,
in so many words,
is that we are sampling different forbidden fruit:
pomegranate seeds, red fingertips, greek mythology,
rich springs & flowery deaths // maternal love be damned --
(and i can taste it.)
so,
after my voice breaks
and you do not notice.
i would never leave you,
and you would never leave me
but sometimes that's not how separation works.
// sometimes, it's the discovery of earth
light catching on the morning dew of a wildflower --
// sometimes, it's the seasons and land,
and all the things we swore it wouldn't be --
// sometimes, it's the imperceptible release of breath after exchanged
missed calls, untapped voice messages, late texts --
i guess
what i cannot say,
in so many words,
is that we are sampling different forbidden fruit:
pomegranate seeds, red fingertips, greek mythology,
rich springs & flowery deaths // maternal love be damned --
(and i can taste it.)
so,
when you finally turn back to see it,
don't chew on the pith.
don't chew on the pith.
but, just, please:
the space,
this space,
between
does not belong
to anyone.
(
i
will
still
love
you
.
)
