it is two o clock in the morning and you are shaking in my arms taking those shuddery butterfly breaths that only accompany sobs - my frame trembles with yours because you are so much heavier, stronger than i, and i cannot hold you still, so i hold you gently instead and hope you do not miss the steadiness that i'll never have.
and when the earthquakes are over we breathe with your head in my lap and my feet on the dash, fogging the windows with silent understanding, or a lack thereof. running my fingers through your hair i raise my foot to the windshield, and draw tiny circles around the moon with my big toe - somehow it seems melancholy, that moon. big, silver, and emanating a sadness that i altogether comprehend for a moment with my fingers in your hair and my toe on the chilled glass pane -
and with that shared sadness came the realization as to why the moon stays so far from the earth - the moon has watched from the sky as countless loves ended from the beginning of time, and so she knows better than to get too close to anything that might make her fall.
i giggle at the thought of how even the moon knows better than i do. but regardless i'll just sit here, toeing circles around that moon, taking guesses at what you are dreaming.