The night has fallen over its edge
and we fall with it. Laughing through tears,
we hug and divide. We reach and we push.
We lean into and we say goodbye.
The heart opens and breaks. It blossoms
and withers. We cry as we laugh, and we cry.
I hold you. Release. I love you. Release.
I hate every second of letting you go.
All night the tears. I wash your sheets.
I bat at the silence and flap like a rag.
Your voice isn’t here. Nor your hair.
Nor your laugh. It left when you did.
I have avoided this edge, the one with you
on one side and me on the other. I pretended
the night would not come.
And here you are, not here. Your gift:
To fly toward elsewhere. To sing where you are.
My gift: To glimpse you. To carve your name
on the walls in my opened heart.