i write through words of you
the darkest parts of where
i still feel the shadows of night
like crisp mornings against my skin
the coldness
the pull
the way the wind speaks our names
softer than the feeling it leaves
when we sit too long and ruminate
i take you between fists
like thoughts from nights
where everything carries
a shortness of breath
the room how it closes
the silence how it moves
i etch the morning dew
across windows with my fingers
like nails against chalkboards
the feeling of something beautiful
still aching when it moves
the morning feels
like i have been here before
like i have woken beneath this same light
with the same weight resting beside me
but this time i know
which direction i pull toward
this time i know
where my feet should go
in time we make amends
with remembering where we go
when we finally go
and i take this time
to make sure it bends
where it’s supposed to
without forcing the hands
without turning the clock backward
just to feel something again
i wake for my time
the time i have left
the mornings i look toward
when the sun spills through the windows
and warmth reaches the floor
when i can feel what i miss
without wishing
to have it again
i stand here
where the sidewalk ends
trying to create the steps
i could never find before
making paths from dirt
from cracks
from everything i once believed
would stop me
to bake inside the warmth
i create each day
to make the next one better
the way i tell myself i will
when i look into the mirror at night
before i fall asleep
and promise tomorrow
will still belong to me
we make edges in life
and hold the hilt too long
until our hands begin to ache
from gripping what already cut us
but eventually the hilt lets go
or maybe we finally let go of it
and we find ourselves again
like morning dew
it comes and it goes
it settles quietly
then disappears beneath the sun
but for a moment it creates
something beautiful from nothing
and somehow
i’ll always know
where i stand in this moment
inside the moments that burn
the feeling
the desire
the fire within me
the parts of myself
i no longer have to quiet
just to keep someone else warm
i remember your name
because i let it
i held your name
too closely
because i let it
and i loosen my fingers now
because i can
we make time and we give it meaning
and sometimes we give meaning
to people who could never hold it
but the thing is
we give time because we love
and we love because of we
because something inside us
was always willing to feel
i take this time and i give it meaning
just as i gave you meaning
the difference is now
i know where the meaning came from
it takes two to tango
and one to let go
it takes a hand to hold
and another to release
a movement forward
a turn in place
the music still playing
even when no one is dancing
i find love in this
in the space that comes after
in the quiet of not needing
to know where you went
or if you ever turned around
i let the wind take
what i no longer need to carry
the name
the touch
the nights i held too closely
and all the versions of us
i made from what could have been
because letting go
does not mean it meant nothing
it means i can feel it
without asking it to stay
and when it leaves
i let it
when it returns in memory
i let it
when morning comes
and i no longer look for you
i let it come
and i let it go too