saying i love you was never hard
if anything
it came too easy
to us, under the stars
in a big-r Romantic composition
on the beach
thinking this is it this is my man
under the Perseids
i don’t think it was the season yet
as i taught you constellations
we made the Perseids happen
like roman gods
Orion watching
if i wished upon any of those stars
i don’t remember if i did
i probably wished for things to work out
as i always do
and they always do, in their own ways
the magic of the world you called it
i shrugged it off
like the repeating two of cups that left you agape
as i shrugged it off, again, remembering that that’s why humans can’t recognise true randomness because they don’t account for repeated sequences
(philia)
the way you surgically removed yourself from my life, precise, keen, apollonian
not even one of the many polaroids we had together left behind
you forgot the watch though, one inconsistency, that i had gifted you
although you asked if you could
take that eevee shirt
which i never told you was a gift from another
of course it’s tough
filling up this space
after a year (a lifetime, really) of being virtually inseparable
if i am liquid i am like glass
britally viscous
unless hand moulded
but maybe i shouldn’t take the trash out here
not in front of everyone
not a monday, like you despaired when i did on my way out to work
maybe i should cover the mirrors
or at least move them to one side
and cover myself in salt
not just the entryway
and burn palo santo its smell, at least, now forever yours
like the palpation
and the toughest battle
the tummy ache
you asked me to heal
on our last night
together