I always forget that grief
isn't just an emotional reaction.
Something constricted in my chest
Nobody ever talks about the grief tightening.

Every girl, every flirtation, every **** since that summer
(four years?)
was meant to destroy
the idea of you,
of us,
but instead none of them could
compare to that dream.
A vision.
I thought it was finally
real.

I hope that
all is not lost.
Hydrogen was in the air,
but I didn't have the courage
to set the air on fire. There is
still time.