Four hours
Before I have to leave.
I remember your lips,
Planting kiss after parting kiss
On mine.

Two hours
Before I have to leave.
I remember your hands
Holding mine, but slowly letting go
As I pass through the boarding gate.

Thirty minutes
Before I have to leave.
I remember every single moment,
Every laugh, every "I love you",
Turning into a fading, yet fresh
Wisp of memory.

Thirty seconds
Before I have to leave.
I remember you  

Don't worry, my love.
I'll let you know when I'm on the other side.
I love you.

Go ahead
Sit with your ignorant comfort blanket
Of expected
Respected
And protected
Male privilege,
And try to tell me we are weak.
Try to tell me that the women who climb mountains of misogyny,
Beaten down repeatedly,
And still stand to scream 'we shall not be silenced'
Have not earnt the right to speak.

You have no idea,
Just what it means to be a woman.

So I guess it seems that my foresight
Had been accurate all along.
But darling, there's no sweetness in being right
When I longed so much to be wrong.

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,--
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,--
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.

Your face was in my dream again last night.
I'm not sure when I can expect this to stop happening.
This subconscious need is becoming habitual,
Almost as frequently as the conscious one,
Like all the times your name appears in my search history.
Not that I can see anything,
Not that anything I can imagine
Is an active representation of who you are now,
But because somewhere, despite all my exhausted efforts
My heart is still playing out our story.
My heart still fights with the endings,
So it makes up new ones,
Spins images into happier realities.

everything* i write is all for you.

*please come back