I fell in love with you
similarly to how people fall in love
with Winter.
With foreknowledge that they will eventually
tire of the cold.

one.
we traced outlines of our frames
in chalk on sidewalks

two.
You asked me if I would marry you under the oak tree
in your backyard with fireflies as our
witnesses  
I said, I do

three.
We started kindergarten
today and I asked you to
build our future house out of legos
you looked at me like I had three heads and
pushed me down.
They said, Boys will be boys
you said the same thing on my porch that
afternoon but you gave me a flower you picked
from your mother’s garden and said you wouldn’t do it again.

four.
You stopped coming over to catch fireflies
and hold my hand.
My mom said that we grew apart
but I told her that we had promised to get married
in spring in your parents yard under the tree we climbed
that year when I fell and broke my arm.
She told me I fell in love like a child
but
how could i fall in love any other way?

five.
So isn’t it fitting that I fell in love with a Boy
afraid of heights?
Who never even had foreknowledge of what it felt like to fall.

Our tears touch-
They mingle
And smear together,
Becoming one;

Tiny vials of our soul-
In the form of tears,
Each half empty,
Until they meet as one.

Our lips kiss,
Sparks fly,
To and from, joining,
Becoming one.

Our souls leap
To meet each other,
To send sparks,
To announce the union.

Tears we cry,
Kisses we give,
All are glimpses
Of our souls,

Finally meeting ever so
Slowly but surely
They mingle
And caress.

Yours and mine,
That have searched
For each other
For all time.

Let the tears flow,
Let the kisses rain,
For you have found me
And I have found you.

For our tears mingle,
Our kisses send sparks;
They speak to the heart:
You and I are Soulmates.

Come not to my funeral:
I am dust now,
Conversing with worms.

Come not to my funeral:
One for me is not needed;
I am not so vain

As to ask dozens to gather
To weep for me,
To wear black for me.

Come not to my funeral:
I’m either very alone,
With many lost friends,

Or I no longer exist. So
Come not to my funeral
I am not so vain as to want

To hear kind words of me:
To hear soft sobs
And your final goodbyes.

Come not to my funeral;
(Honestly I may be a little vain
As I want to hear your kind words,

I wish to say my final goodbyes
And cry for my leaving too
As I miss those I left

But I’m more afraid of those
Who don’t weep for me,
Who don’t wear black for me.)

The old part of me is dead:
The part of me that loves you.

I put him to rest on a grassy hill
Where the butterflies flock to roses.

There he lies, under the tomb of a dead tree,
Steadily being feasted on by cankerworms.

He is silent, he is free,
For he has passed the door

Into a realm of calm tranquility
Where pain makes more sense

And reasons why are no longer needed
For he lives in the Kingdom of Night.

She rules there and invited him
With a kiss and a nibble on the ear.

He could not refuse her lovely black lips
But he knew not where to tread

So she shoved him down with words
Of ice and sorrow and blame.

There he lies with her through eternal night
Caught up in the death of his life:

Her, the one, the only, the Moon
That fought the Night.

That old part of me is dead now:
The part of me that loves you.

He is silent, he is sleeping,
For he has passed the door

But the ghost of myself
Still whispers his love for you

Ever more.