You lay with me in the shade, reminiscing on past days,
wondering how our innards cultivated shuffling forward.
We tell ourselves, one day it will be adequate, but the
period for those falsehoods is left under bright eyes and maple tree
helicopters.
We retain the other’s hand, nails grounding to secure a
foundation. But the foundation is weak. Two fragmentary bodies cannot save me.
Me is you vast, lengths of oceans and prayer. The rolling
blue dowry, given names but rendered meaningless throughout the unavoidable
aging.
If I peel you, will I find me shut? We grip harder.
We talk through plans, maybe this time it will provide for
my needs. There is always hope you say.
Yes, I have hope and I love you dearly.
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