the way you loop,
the way you close your eyes to
look at me,

i feel you,
voices down the line

(something has to
give.

not feeling the gravity
around your darkness,
not seeing the depth and shape
—stretched, elongated—
the asymmetry

of axes, maligned, blue on
red: blood on metal,
tooth by tooth:

we don't fly anymore
on these pale, manila wings.

i couldn't focus because of the rain running into the window.
oh how the world was literally gray.
i could see the trees and pavement getting wet from where i was sitting.
i wondered where you were right now?
was this rain your tears?
i wanted to hold you.
i missed the way you cupped my face in your hands,
how your eyes healed me.
the rain brought me out of my trance of you and brought back to my body, to this world
without you.

twisted graves rise,
dissonant—

not quite dark
     
     yet.

you were hovering
—a blackening shadow—
above me

i glimpsed your aura
—hollow, blurred, bruised—
but didn't laugh at your antics,
didn't reflect on your anecdotes:

just turned away,
just pretended to forget how to feel.