What will I do
If I stop missing you?
That may be my most persistent, strangling fear:
Not the searing, direct pain of being parted from you
But the dull erosion
Of forgetting you by degrees.
What if
Someday
I am sitting in a coffee shop in the wintertime
On hiatus from my hectic life
And in the bare and honest moments of mental solitude
That come between the wisps of steam from my cup
You're not there
In my head?
What if someday, for a moment,
I live without you
And discover that I can?
That moment will be my greatest loss,
My dive from heaven,
My hardest fall.
And
I
won't
even
realize.