The roof is slick with dew, but tonight that won’t stop me
As a rabbit goes into its home I squeeze through the bathroom window
Here I can breathe.
My soul. Torn.
Can tears of sorrow stream down your cheek, but your heart still smile?
Like Job when having lost everything still chooses to trust
Sitting in a pile of ashes picking the scabs from his skin
My teeth are still fuzzy from the cigarette we shared down at the harbor
I promised my frail beautiful mother I would never have one
With you though, it is a memory forming, not something suffocating my lungs
I remember the first night I stroked your hair and told you everything would be alright
You left tear stains on my shoulder.
Or the morning the crickets awoke us and we lay on the balcony naming our favorite childhood books
I do not remember what you said, but it involved a fairy tale
It was prophetic; fairy tales always come your way
Maybe because your prayers are filled with words like
Magic.
Happily ever after
Princess and King.
The morning sun is ascending
I am happy for you.
I told the cardinal sitting on the birch tree
I know you will forget me
I am like the smoke of the last cigarette we shared.
Vapor.