this is goodbye

keep it.

keep it in
your heart
until it burns

keep it in your
mind until it wraps
around your every
waking thought

keep it close to
your skin
until it blisters
every last inch
of your flesh

keep it anywhere, my lover
my trickster, my fool

just keep it.

This.
A lipstick-stained envelope
Mailed to your front door.
A collection of sonnets
Written on thin paper.
This.
An old map hanging by the corners
Fraying at the edges
Guiding you to here
And there.
This.
A lantern blossoming in flames
Untouched by the mortal eye
And unloved by the iridescent wings.
This.
My collection.
My home.
My requiem.

i exist beyond metaphors
there are things even poems
cannot tell.

Let me touch you,
Said the earth to sky,
And the cloud settled in,
And on the mountain she lie.
They spoke of their lives,
Of lost loves and of fears,
And when the sun called her back,
All that remained were her tears.
Maybe you've seen them,
In the winter or fall,
When the mountain is barren,
And the sky comes to call,
Be it wishful thinking,
Or a trick of the light,
But I swear that I see it,
When the sun hits just right,
A smile of contentment,
On that old mountains face,
As he lays down to slumber,
In his lovers embrace.