I spent all night
on the dock of the man-made lake
turning my lucky
yellow stone
over and over
like words that died too early in the lungs.

I remembered waking to you crying
telling me how you felt trapped
and didn't mean to lash out
but were stuck between
not imagining a world
where I didn't exist,
and the feeling of extra air pouring
through an unoccupied passenger window.

Even the hardest love
can't outfight the infinite,
and my echoing voice will collapse
like young frost,
long before it reaches your cheek.

When you one day wake shouting,
at a shadow no longer mine
I hope you never forgive me.