I buried you deep
on the ocean floor.
Pushed you off on a raft
all ablaze like a firework.
All flaming glory, afloat
on the blue and green water.
A reflected sparkle in my own eye.

I buried you deep
and then left.
I ran
like a rabbit toward bigger things -
left you behind with part of myself
but lied and told them I had it all with me.

I buried you deep in the bed.
Dredged up books from the pit of my belly.
I was told that it's easy to forget a young fool
but the light hits the leaves and they grow and make food,
and the green chlorophyll is all you.

This house is so empty and clean
and the college is lonely and new.
I sit on the pavement
night after night, thinking of bluebells,
beaches and the people I knew.
You could have come with me
but I buried you deep in my old, messy room.