Oh darling, you make me grateful
for gloomy summer days. The only way
I can feel close when you're so far away,
or gone entirely, or everywhere at once, I don't know
how it works. All I know is you're not here,
and wolves parade in friendly forged masks,
wishing their energy could be even
a fraction of yours. Pretending
they spend theirs the same ways as you.

Only you and I know the truth.
The darkness you hid from most
that I was so honored to share with you.
We'd remind each other to come up for air,
each stuck in our downward,
spiraling undersea dreams.

There was no one else like us.
I'll never be quite whole again. True love
that was never in love--the thing about us
is we are made of it. We were the packing peanuts
around all those we love, but when
there was no longer enough the box emptied out,
and I stay here still wishing it might fill.