Let us both pretend we can tame each other.
Let us both pretend we're not mountains,
but people who fit quietly inside houses
Let us both pretend that our water runs
slow and thick like blood, instead of
unchecked and tenebrous as oceans
Let us both pretend we take tea like humans
in the afternoons
we are not deer, and we are not running,
we are not hawks, and we've never felt
the squirm of rodents in our claws
we've never felt the lift of a sudden wind

Let us both pretend we can tame each other
with nothing more than our will
That we're not lightning, or tall trees,
or echoes in canyons
older than time
*We are storms and we are breaking
somewhere over to the West

I'd almost forgotten the blanketing beauty of sorrow
and the unbearable lightness of joy
that leaves you wondering why you were so happy
this must be what she felt when she decided to let go
I don't remember when I decided to stop trusting the world
or when that decision seemed foolishly myopic
but when I picked up my mat to walk it felt heavy
if there is miracle in healing, it is the miracle
of seeing yourself die, or at least an older version of it
then comes all the newness that really isn't new at all
like reminding myself that this is the first time
to hear our song, now that she's gone
or remember the way she loved the ocean
because I saw a seashell in a fisher's net at a restaurant
when did I ever start liking U2? Maybe she played it too much
and when did forever become yesterday?
maybe I saw the end coming, like a wave spotting another
breaking on the shore and disappearing never to be seen again
I suddenly felt my trough deepening, my crest folding
I felt my own demise inching closer to the rocks
reminding me of the pier in Longbeach where she said goodbye
they don't teach you how to have a broken heart
anymore than they teach you how to fall in love
then again, no one thought to tell the wave that it is the ocean