I think of you everyday
if only for a second
in some form or another
embedded
like sticky infection inside the chest
but it's getting easier
the more time whispers across the wounds
I wonder if it's the same for you
if you look at a photo of me
and your mouth pulls
slightly to the left
barely recalling
walls stretched across
blocking
the sight of
the idea of
you
and of me
that you feel content
happy. perfectly happy
just as it is
without
until you hear a name
or just some words dressed
to sound as my names sounds
rolling off someone else's tongue
pushed away
by some lips that aren't mine
the room spins and
the walls fall
never really having a chance
it's only then I realize
we are delicate
still floating through the air
like fireflies
only lighting up every now and then
to reveal the beauty of it all.
