I was always attracted not by some quantifiable, external beauty, but by something deep down, something absolute. Just as some people have a secret love for rainstorms, earthquakes, or blackouts, I liked that certain undefinable something.
1. We were in tune like synchronised swimmers.
Now I learn to navigate the oceans on my own.
2. I sobbed on public transport yesterday.
I wanted to call you but then remembered
I’m not allowed to.
3. The truth is: I know I’m better off
without you, but these memories
keep tricking me.
4. You make me feel like a walking cliché.
I need to stop romanticising leaving,
stop comparing your collar bones to
valleys and your freckles to constellations.
5. Can you jumpstart my heartbeat again?
I’m running so low on fuel.
6. God knows I need to delete your number.
7. Please don’t ever contact me again.
8. Perhaps we were destined to falter
from the start,
just as Venice is doomed to sink.
9. Speaking of Venice,
you should visit while there
is still time.
10. You made the words
feel just right. Now they spin
11. You had little nicknames for me.
I secretly miss being called moon shell,
tiger, fairy nymph.
12. Maybe we were just a collection
of dead ends and false starts.
We should have been disqualified
from the beginning.
13. Grief is the same in any language.
I mourn you. I collect flowers and place them
on your grave in the cemetery.
14. You are so much more than human.
15. Despite all of this, there is some
beautiful solitude in sleeping with
only my heartbeat
1. I bottled you up in my heart, and you created a tiny piece of symbiosis that takes fledgling breaths every time you envelop me in your dark eyes. Don’t let the glass splinter.
2. The lighthouse was our home. We have always been addicted to artificial light.
3. There are nights where I wonder if your touch was real, if the fire burnt your skin and if you gripped me and said, ‘Don’t go. I couldn’t bear it,’ when the sheets were laid back and we were laid bare.
4. The forest outside was burning, mixing with the cold air. I wasn’t sure if it was the mist or my thoughts, but I could never seem to find my way with you.
5. When I told you that your hair was brown you laughed and said it would always be the colour of the fire in front of us. The next morning the fire slept, the whispers of the embers of last night replaced by the frosty crackling of remembrance.
6. I always imagined our meeting to be different. The lights changed colours and with them, your face changed, a chameleon under a watchful eye and bad intentions.
7. Every Sunday you would change the sheets on your bed. When I left, you changed them on a Tuesday and threw me out with stale powder and a double rinse.
8. When our log cabin was snowed in, I knew it meant more time. When you slept, I killed the fire so we wouldn’t thaw out before dawn.
9. I heard you quietly praying to a God you didn’t believe in. ‘Please,’ you said, ‘let him stay and be kind.’ I scrubbed my hands for three hours that night, I knew that I was filthy in comparison.
10. Your hair was red, and I orbited you in the darkness. When the sun came up, I wasn’t sure which light to follow.