I’m not going to think of
you the same way.
Looking at the glassy
sea, a dark cup
on the lips for the
early morning.
I’m not going to feel
you’re gone, the same way.
As a chance that passed to
hold your waist
in the high school
hallway.
I’m not going to
talk about you
the same way.
As though we’d gone
forever in a world,
our lives combined together.
I’m not going to lose
you in the same way.
As though an atmosphere
was still there, once there
was no air.