a special kind of hell froze over
the day you died
and there are so many ways
to grieve the loss of a loved one
so many different ways to say
"I'm okay,"
so many different faces to paint
and rainbows to wear
yet there i was
bearing the weight of the world
which was one person less heavy
and marrying my fist to a wall
breaking knuckles and nails and
drowning like a sailboat in the midst
of a rainstorm
there's a time in the ocean
measured not by minutes
but by waves
or the lack thereof
where all is calm and still
peaceful
sailors call it slack-tide
and this time only exists between breaths
between collapsing lungs and
breaking hearts
the moments among screams and silence
because we all must eventually stop
and take a breath
so here i am
wearing rainbows with my feet in the sand
of a shore not far from the coast of a beach
named after the peak of your shoulder blades
the arc of your neck
and the curve of your spine
more often than sometimes
i find myself wondering
if slack-tide exists in your ocean of blue
if i go out to sea and breathe in
what's left of you
if i'll wake up
to see you
wearing rainbows, too.