Switzerland, 2015
Last summer,
the first night I arrived,
you were anxious.
In the twilight hours
we propped our feet up on the balcony
and the awkwardness adhered to the
space between us like super glue to- well, anything.
When I fixed my glaze upon the vast sky,
splattered with stars that ran behind the snow capped alps
and felt little glances sneak up and lock onto my skin,
I swore I knew.
And when you told me that you thought I was beautiful,
words that reeked of rehearsal and courage,
I knew.
You reserved this summer for me
and I cursed the stars for illuminating my smile.
Those months overflowed
with hitting and biting,
insults baked with love
and immaturity.
You got to know my composite of anger and arrogance,
mischievous,
brave and strong.
I got to know the skinny love you,
the you that always beat me in 5 in a row tic-tac-toe.
We left everything else behind the language barrier.
That summer was sealed with a 7am kiss
wrapped in a sunrise envelope.
That morning I watched you pass through security
and my heart held together long enough
to be shattered in the shower an hour later.
I knew.
All my summers would be for you.
But this year,
there is no more hitting.
The only thing I bite is my lip
when I think about what has been
whited out by the year in between.
The days left are countable now
and the question marks that hang over our heads
curve and lead to points that will not be made.
Muddy Socks
When the clouds gather in front of the sun to
soften the blows of the harsh rays on my skin,
and the thunder rumbles in the dense skies,
the lightning strikes will echo from the heavens to
the grounds,
and what can I do except take my feet out from my
muddy shoes and muddy socks and stand in the rain
and let the water press my shirt onto me,
hoping that it will wash away everything I want
it to,
but knowing that some things can never be drowned,
the raindrops only reminding me of the tears
that should be shed for them.
Or perhaps when the clouds dissipate into the light blue
sky we know so well,
the sun will remind us of the joy we should be feeling
and the smiles of others who aren’t us.
Emotions are complicated
and pain knows no weather, a blind
force, ignorant of any forecast or hour,
and it will always find a path into our red
plastic cups and our love and the delicacies
we have after dinner.
And it’s easy to take away that if we slit our eyes and stay
just as blind as pain,
we can be just as powerful and indifferent as it. But the
feelings and the truth and
love
make the agonies a little less,
weather reports a little more dull,
and our time here worthwhile of the sting.
And so really,
we win.
Au Revoir
Here’s to all the times I’ve turned on my heels and walked away.
To all the times I’ve stayed silent.
To all the missed embraces,
and the lost kisses.
To all the times I’ve waited until the flight to cry,
and all the words that failed me.
Here is to later.
Here is to next summer.
Here is to taking care of yourself.
to love,
and missing you.
For the tears, shamelessly,
And lipstick on cheeks.
Here is for every single time:
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
I’ll see you.
Take care of yourself.
There will be next year.
There will be next summer.
I promise I’ll be back soon.
I’ll miss you.
I love you.
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
The Silver Lining
First love.
The hardest love.
The love I wanted
to be our last.
We begged for freedom
but instead took a shortcut
to complication.
So we ended the way we started:
safe,
simple,
a text.
And that day,
when we can greet like old friends,
long after time has numbed the pain,
I will remember the silver lining.
