1d
letting go
of the sun, the moon,
and the stars.
drifting through quieter skies,
faintly vivid,
testing the waters
that never held me.
am i a free bird,
or just dust
in the wind?
to let go
of yourself—
the kind of sorrow
that keeps me awake;
the child
who never slept
or smiled,
still knocking
on the door
i buried
long ago.
how do i tell
him
there is no place
where sleep remembers us—
only roads
we walk
until the sunset
swallows
what’s left.
