i am a windsock
that you found atop an abandoned heart valve, trying to catch its breath
an open-mouthed fish with air passing through the gills
drowning in solitude

you took me down
washed me up,
and i felt useful again

you never asked me to love you
never stapled me to the wall or made me into your sock puppet with googly eyes
but i would find myself nestled beside you, anyway
in the moments i wanted to feel a little more human

you listened, mostly
you would hold me up and watch me fill with air and when things got too emotional i would wriggle free and tumble off the mountain peak in a scatter-brained attempt to prove i didn't need you
you never raised your voice or shouted after me, and i never raised my hand to say, "i need you, too"

3 years went by

you never begged me to love you
but you whispered that feelings had sprouted from your heart so long ago on the mountain
and i could see the lettuce leaves protruding from your chest
and i became afraid
i had never kept something like this alive

(a list of things that i'd let die:
a cactus
friendships
hermit *****
fish
and tiny flowers)

so i let the wind take me again
i dont know why
i crawled back to the crusty heart valve
and tried to let my soul dry out
(a raisin in the sun)

but after a month of drowning in my own solitude
i heard that a frost was coming

i thought of the tiny leaves protruding from the ridges of your chest

(could i let something so innocent die again?)

and on September 27th, while you slept
i, the wind sock, slipped into the sheets
i covered our tender love with all i had

and we weathered the frost together.