Pyramid

It rained tonight for the first time in a while,

And the Moon broke through the clouds,

Summoned witnesses to remember the mountain sky

In all their great dramas here below,

Where hellos and goodbyes take up so much of our headspace

And so little of our time.

Only dreams, only memories,

Only little moments of breaking my heart open

Like frozen fingers too quickly warmed by the fire

Shattering me in her layered lingering

And their naked splashing in the darkness,

And I shiver half-clothed,

Watching a moment I'm (not) truly a part of,

And (yet) have created.

I am so young in my flesh,

So old in my ways.

Do the trees think me curious?

Head shaking out the window

And a child in a thrice-too-large coat

And tears behind so many eyes

And somehow it feels like Winter,

And Fall hasn't even arrived yet.

Could you embrace me again,

Skin to skin and our minds reeling

In a spiraling mass moving up and down

In tandem with the rhythm of distant hearts,

And I feel like crying out: Wait!

Because I'm not ready,

Because you're gone now

And Lichen next

And everyone, everyone eventually,

And I've hardly even caught your eye

To tell you silently that I love you.

Could you wait another day?

Take another month?

Stay another year?

But we would never keep you,

Though the piano doesn't greet me when I seek it out in the night,

And the stairs don't sing when they creak under unfamiliar footsteps,

And my terrified pace won't be slowed by the patient nightwalker

When the houses get too crowded and the paths too thin.

Where you wander now is yours,

And I'm proud of that choice,

And whether you appear in a month or a year

Or never again in our little wild lives,

I'll go on dancing to strange music,

Taking up space and squeezing into tea cups,

Laughing because people are so beautiful

And because being loved is so lovely.