your hands knew the curves of my face,
skin and emotion like clay
beneath your fingertips,
gentle touch and feather-light
lips on my cheek
and the warmth of your arms in
the firelight, dew settling on our shoulders
like memories in the shadows,
only to evaporate
in the heat from the flames.
i remember the forest green
of your eyes, the brooding twist of
your lips when you were lost in
thought, the laughter in your
smile whenever your gaze landed
on me, and i can't help but think that
maybe, somehow, we lost ourselves
in those flames, lit one too many matches
and burned our very souls to ash.
i saw you through the eyes of the
night sky, as the moon sees the stars,
but you only saw me as a salesman
recognizes an expensive piece of
furniture; just another lampshade
or end table or love seat to polish
up and boast about and sell off
to the highest bidder.
i still feel you as i did on those heavy,
summer nights when the earth wrapped its arms
around our shoulders and the darkness
enveloped the earth in purple shadows
and the moon played hide-and-seek
with the milky way and we were the
sun and the moon and the stars
to each other.
but perhaps we were too much like
the galaxies above us and
there was too much distance between
our beings to survive the fall to earth;
so we continue hiding our bruises
and walking the fine line of acceptance
until, one day, maybe we'll understand that
while the moon and the stars play at romance
and exist in the same firmament, they
were never meant for each other -
and no matter how brightly they might
burn, eventually, all fires die out
and all that remains are the ashes of
what once was.
[ april 8th, 2018 // 8:42 p.m. ]
