the list I've held so closely,
close to me like a second skin,
a record for what never happened,
for what may have been lost.
I'll just leave it all with you
to do with what you will
to separate the fiction and truth.
It made more than enough sense
that your eyes mirrored the sky,
that the shade of your hair
matched a sunset's final flare
Before the dark swept over our hearts,
before being near became just too much,
when your elegant frame curled
into mine and halves became whole,
or when your name twined with my own.
How we met years ago when
you were on the run
from something you never named,
never told me much about.
How our every reunion was like a secret vignette
hiding us within the other's forgiving warmth,
I never once hurt or judged you there.
And you drew closer to whatever
light you once saw in me
on a night where fire lapped
and snared two souls.
I never would have left,
I never would have strayed
If you had stayed that night
long enough to let me pierce your heart
Like an arrow through clouds,
you said against my trembling ear,
you said that my heart felt
like a tiny bird's fragile wing
beating against cold glass
when in your hands.
That's where I lost a part of myself to you,
some measure my pulse cannot seem to trace,
it was something said in the way you touched,
in the way the earth ceased its turning
as a signal I've always been waiting for.
Where you would kiss,
where you would gasp
Where we kept a secret
and simply carried on,
never once describing
the list that I kept
about how you were nothing
special to him or to her.
The notes memory scrawled
because evidence was just
too much for either of us to cling to.
I'll just leave it with you
to do with what you will,
whatever helps you
remember me as you should.
Like the tattoo on the side of your hip,
a glyph along creamy skin,
gently guiding as if any other force
would break and scatter the ink apart.
