Wednesday, August 31, 2016
From a Facebook message
I wanted to ask how you were doing, how your day was. I didn’t want to remind you that I was here and that you were hurting, just wanted to know if you needed anything at all. I bit my tongue into two. The strips can talk to each other now if they need to say something. I wanted to ask if we could keep each other safe in the memory of one another. If we could hold our names to the light and blow kisses at them in the dark. That we may recall instances of laughter and music instead of whatever it is we are making now. I wanted to ask if you could write me a letter and send it to me in a decade, telling me the truth about what I was for you. I think by then I’ll be able to handle it. I wanted to ask if one day I could take you out for coffee and tell you of all the poems I had to write about you that one night. That one night where we held each other’s soft and wept for the history we had built. I wanted to ask you if you would carry me in all my funny pieces and if I could carry you in all of yours.