I could tell you
I could
I feel them now
in this slow death

Hands
fighting my hair
to find the back of my neck
unhinging me in a way that
only you could
Even still

And I remember

That first outpouring of words
Orange flowers and a lost car
A rock by the river, a kiss on my shoulder
One finger lifting my chin in the darkness
We were always happening after midnight

From North Ave to Montrose to Bayview
From Sawyer to St Joseph
From Wrightsville to Carolina
From Isabela to Playa Sucia
We were always more beach than sidewalk

Mood ring and resin necklaces
A room that wasn't ours but was perhaps made for us
Empty apartment, full library
A blizzard in the mountains at 4am
The smell of vacant houses
Wood smoke and wood dust
One thousand first times
We were, we were
Always

There are so many, too many to name.
I cry now as I finally face them
I feel them like knives. They carve me open, bleed me until I am only sinew.

I didn't know memories could be quite so violent.

You thought I'd forgotten?
How could I?

Have you not seen
how I cling to these heart vessels
that I have nurtured just for you?

This space is yours.
There will always be room for you here.