you were the lacunar bolt the part
of a life spent wishing on stars
if stars had ever granted anything but light

chatoyant the yellow pilot lamp
down the street trembles weakly
wanting to burn out it flickers like a sun
struggling long past its expiration date

I was an absquatulate scholar
of wrinkled bedsheets and the way
the light ineffable shone around us
as though we were the ******* center of it all

a slow-motion salvation is better
than instant gratification behind words
like I believe I can’t accept this
I will give you back

your left behind particulars: your lingerie
your photographs the calligraphy in your letters
the blanket I have slept under for three years
dreaming you might give me back the ring

I willfully saved for you in the abditory
between these walls I was building
for us broken promises refract sanguine light
and shape future homes into abandonment