A lot a bit of me

A slit.

Our mouths,

so near our throats.

How carelessly we let those words drip out

that wander for years

through cupcakes and picnics

in between our comical movie notes.

Oily apologies and placating boasts.

So, we tense for the crack,

this thin bird with thinner bone,

It cannot possibly survive our attack.

AND

to think

That was the only thing we did together.

Clarify. The only thing we fought for together.

So,

Heavy sighs,

I miss the dream of Jackie, a dream I had built with its arms around the world and I was somewhere within that frabjous day

but

papers and pens crusade the rest of our ruined lives.

Mumbled forgiveness is always difficult to hear. It is much harder to smile at.

And the ones that love us salve the wounds with the story of “We tried,”

You and I know,

We both know in the depths, inside.

We had hopes flown on delicate wings.

Kites fly away, drunk on wind, strong on the surge

and destination known only to them.

I wonder what shores could they have touched.

Then stop stubbornly, hushed,

“No, I don’t.”

And that’s why I never tried to catch any of them.