i am a windsock that you found atop an abandoned heart valve, trying to catch its breath an open-mouthed fish with air passing through the gills drowning in solitude
you took me down washed me up, and i felt useful again
you never asked me to love you never stapled me to the wall or made me into your sock puppet with googly eyes but i would find myself nestled beside you, anyway in the moments i wanted to feel a little more human
you listened, mostly you would hold me up and watch me fill with air and when things got too emotional i would wriggle free and tumble off the mountain peak in a scatter-brained attempt to prove i didn't need you you never raised your voice or shouted after me, and i never raised my hand to say, "i need you, too"
3 years went by
you never begged me to love you but you whispered that feelings had sprouted from your heart so long ago on the mountain and i could see the lettuce leaves protruding from your chest and i became afraid i had never kept something like this alive
(a list of things that i'd let die: a cactus friendships hermit ***** fish and tiny flowers)
so i let the wind take me again i dont know why i crawled back to the crusty heart valve and tried to let my soul dry out (a raisin in the sun)
but after a month of drowning in my own solitude i heard that a frost was coming
i thought of the tiny leaves protruding from the ridges of your chest
(could i let something so innocent die again?)
and on September 27th, while you slept i, the wind sock, slipped into the sheets i covered our tender love with all i had