I asked him who he thought he was,
doing all of this. With a faint smile
on his face he said Life.
After hearing the second L word
that crushed my lungs that day,
I slapped his face with all my anger.
That was for every moment he made me regret
something I'd done, and for every twist
he had put in my path. For better or for worse,
wasn't an excuse. Then I hugged him
filled with contradiction,
tighter than shoes 2 sizes too small.
Thanking him for the moments
where I couldn't stop smiling,
dancing, laughing, singing;
moments that make us all feel alive.
Shortly after I broke down, still in his arms.
"There is too much sadness in the world,"
I said in between sobs. A champagne bottle full,
about to burst anytime someone opened the eyelid
shaped cap. And lastly I kissed him.
Everyone talks about the kiss of death and
its bitter sweetness, but they're the ones
who have never touched lips so alive
they could make the sun rise with as much as a sigh.
Before he was out of sight, he turned towards me and said,
"I always go on."
I then turned the opposite way and
with every step, thought of whose
breath made the moonrise.