You bound strong sandals on my feet,
You gave me bread and wine,
And sent me under sun and stars,
For all the world was mine.

Oh, take the sandals off my feet,
You know not what you do;
For all my world is in your arms,
My sun and stars are you.

I cannot miss your touch
I was oblivious, and never really felt it
I didn’t know you’d be gone so soon

I cannot miss your voice
What I thought at the time was listening, wasn’t good enough to memorize it
I didn’t know you’d be gone so soon

I cannot miss your scent
I never braved the proximity it would’ve taken to know your musky whiff
I didn’t know you’d be gone so soon

I cannot miss your taste
I was too ***** to ever go after you, or your flavor
I didn’t know you’d be gone so soon

I cannot miss the sight of you
Though I saw you, I didn’t learn your appearance well enough
I didn’t know you’d be gone so soon

Now that you are gone
I hate that I was so cowardly; so craven
And don’t have the vaguest remembrance of what you really were

Me keeping you keeping me keeping you
awake.

I almost fall asleep
I wake up again so I don't miss what's left of you.

I want the yolk of you
to crack you open and sip your soul.

And I don't know how to say this,
but I think you're beautiful on the inside.

I bet your liver has lights
and I can tell

but really I just want to crawl inside you for the pretty things.

And I know you're tired
and I know you need to sleep
but I can't lose you to sleep.

I like you too much.

When I made you, I loved you.
Now I pity you.

I gave you all you needed:
bed of earth, blanket of blue air--

As I get further away from you
I see you more clearly.
Your souls should have been immense by now,
not what they are,
small talking things--

I gave you every gift,
blue of the spring morning,
time you didn't know how to use--
you wanted more, the one gift
reserved for another creation.

Whatever you hoped,
you will not find yourselves in the garden,
among the growing plants.
Your lives are not circular like theirs:

your lives are the bird's flight
which begins and ends in stillness--
which begins and ends, in form echoing
this arc from the white birch
to the apple tree.