it is two o clock in the morning
and you are shaking in my arms
taking those shuddery butterfly breaths
that only accompany sobs -
my frame trembles with yours
because you are so much
heavier,
stronger than i,
and i cannot hold you still,
so i hold you gently instead
and hope you do not miss the
steadiness that i'll never have.
and when the earthquakes are over
we breathe with your head in my lap
and my feet on the dash,
fogging the windows with
silent understanding,
or a lack thereof.
running my fingers through your hair
i raise my foot to the windshield,
and draw tiny circles around the moon
with my big toe -
somehow it seems melancholy,
that moon.
big,
silver,
and emanating a sadness that i
altogether comprehend for a moment
with my fingers in your hair
and my toe on the chilled glass pane -
and with that shared sadness
came the realization as to why
the moon stays so far from the earth -
the moon has watched from the sky
as countless loves ended
from the beginning of time,
and so she knows better than
to get too close to anything
that might make her fall.
i giggle at the thought
of how even the moon
knows better than i do.
but regardless
i'll just sit here,
toeing circles around that moon,
taking guesses at what you are dreaming.