my atoms
have always loved your atoms.
you caught me off guard
like a subway pulling too
quickly
out of Ossington Station
(I couldn’t ground myself)
you remind me of my last breath:
taut, slight but necessary
stay
with me
I still feel your words
growing up my spine
there are dead roses
covering my sheets from you
and although he picked them up
and wrapped new vines
around my front door
and gifted me jars filled with conversation
the tattooed pilot wings on his chest
are reminiscent of yours flying above me