Just as the world tilts forward
not a quake, not a cry
but the hush before the glass slips
from the ledge
I feel it.
Your hand still warm on my hip
the window wide to let in
the hush of leaves, the long exhale
of night.
We had waited
through lifetimes, through rust
through clocks that never moved
and now the hours lie scattered
on the floor like our clothes,
useless.
You sleep,
And I begin to fade
like the moon forgets the shore
tide pulling me
back
to where I came from.
My blood slows, no pain, only
a thinning, a soft unravel
like silk, like smoke...
You dream.
We’re on the boat again
you, rowing without effort
me, cradled in the stern,
the sky a bowl of stars
overhead.
And then, you look away
just for a breath, a blink
perhaps to name a birdcall
or catch a shooting star.
When you turn
I am gone
no splash, no sound.
Only the moon
still whole
still watching.
You wake alone
the morning stiff in your chest
and I do not.
But know this
the water was warm
the sky, open
I let go
with you still holding me.
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