When the sea glass breaks the wind of our kite, I’ll take a paper to a pen and write it all down.
All the sonnets of summer lust, of our sunshine baths and spilling posies around your half naked body.
I’ll write it all down, every word you uttered through intoxicated truth, every line you ever spat down the lukewarm upstream.
Til the day the canvas turned red, and the sky bled gold, till the last moments of your demure desuetude found me a empty shell of a being.
I know what I must do in time. My epiphany of those 3 ephemeral months tore me to pieces, the words were ineffable, mellifluous but sharp as knives. The revelation broke that white fourth wall of reality.
When forever meets the nothingness of eternity, I’ll come forget you.
You in your cracked kiss on frozen lips of moments caught by Kodak.
You and your promises of wrap around porches, of iced tea and butterfly wings in my hair.
You and your redolent smile, your halcyon outlook on the thing growing inside of me. You and your forbearance to name our dalliance of daisies and dozes by the lakeside.
It shouldn’t have taken me by surprise when you packed that summer in a suitcase by the entryway.
It shouldn’t have startled me when your side of the bed remained empty for weeks on end.
It shouldn’t have broken me the way it did, but it did.
When the last days of August slip through the mossy screen door, when the second hand escapes to autumn encrusted leaves, when the eve of tomarrow flees my fingertips;
That’s the day I’ll sit down, pen and paper in hand and write down the memory of you and me.