Tuesday, May 8, 2012


the pavement is slick beneath endless sheets of rain
shy stars are grateful for thick clouds and
I am looking out my window
at 11
I miss you

all the schools are closed
the night is happening outside
something in me is in progress, too
I miss you

what is exhumed from all that I remember
sits idly in the worn treads of my mind
crack me open and some ancient happiness is found
I miss you

but which is the you that I miss

[it takes vigilance to not idealize someone beyond recognition
when you are clawing at the falling of your love]

is it the you that Can’t Try for This, the you that is Pretty Different From Me

please show yourself

I miss something in the shape of you
I miss your shape and parts of the you that constitute it
I miss being under you and
I miss being over you
I am far away and next to you
wishing you to fill out within yourself like a rising tide

and now you are under me
and you recede from my surging forward
so that I chase you even when I am with you

so that I am tired
I am so tired

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