stars in your eyes
you are a child of the cosmos
and ruler of the skies
I am unsure of
the best way to unhook your
dead talons from my heartstrings.
Prompt: “You wrote once that ‘there are stretchmarks on our souls.’ I’ve been feeling that a lot lately. Can I use that feeling, your words, as a prompt, Six? Because there ARE stretchmarks on our souls…”
Eleven months have passed and I can still feel the reverberation of all the moments I never thought I’d have—murmuring under silky sheets, morning breath-laced i love you’s, soft kisses along brow bones. Sometimes I can feel this day before I fall asleep, pressed up against me, brushing the baby hairs away from the nape of my neck. It’s the before. Before the kiss, the innocent curling of bodies, the waking up next to each other. It is the last day for almost a year where you were not the first thing on my mind. It is the last day I will not have known the feel of your lips, the weight of your body, the unfurling of your limbs next to mine. It is the day before all the most important days. I can barely remember it, but it matters. It is a glimpse of what could have been if you had not kissed me, if we had not fumbled our way into something better.