I didn’t want us to be together any more than you did I just thought it was nice the feel of the small of your back and I liked talking to you liked the way you thought I was crazy liked feeling wild again because I’ve lost that you know that something that used to thump against my rib cage and make me wanna rip the dawn right out of the sky and tack it to the lids of your eyes and I wasn’t asking for the world you know just the feel of you there and your silence
Because even if we ran out of things to say I don’t think it’d bother me much don’t think it would send my bones to rattle and okay maybe I talk too much and try to connect too much and maybe the line I said about your heart beat didn’t sound as poetic out loud as it did in my head but I’m a zany case of skin and I can’t help it that you make me buzz electric and it’s not my fault that in my mind we’re just two lightning bugs like darting stars in tall grass
So take me back to the little us tucked under sheets and instead of prattling I’ll allow for your breath to catch and cling to my skin and I won’t shake it off this time won’t think us out of the present moment won’t let the now scare me into reminiscents because you know I’m a collector of false starts have folded enough nostalgia into the wrinkles of my brain to last a life time and I’m sorry I tried to make you into a polaroid before we’d even gotten the chance to carve a small crevice of time out for each other
And don’t bother with your words I know them all by heart could stick them to needle point and sell them at craft fairs I know you mean well mean the very most well the very most well of any good intentioned backwards glance I’ve ever seen because you really have the loveliest eyes like scoopable eyes like spoon out and set for marbeling eyes like eyes that jelly my knees and make me wanna write and say too many awkward things
And even in this unspooling I’ve said too much and even in this unchaining you are still the silhouette of two arms of two legs and a head with two ears standing in the door frame of a christmas-light-lit-95-square-foot dorm room with the glow of tundra prickling your skin and it’s okay this going it’s okay this goodbye because I don’t need to be heart broken to miss you and I don’t need to want to share a togetherness to feel a sense of loss however small however fleeting however inked however creeping it may be.