prayer

//am

your soft voice on the big island would say
' how are you ? '

and we would both be great
at the same time and place

on the island at pitch night we'd decide to run
from one end to other through the dark crowded trees

the tiniest twigs on the branches would cut our skin brushing by
to say hi - try to halt our motion - and catch our flee


//pm

the softest thought in my mind would be a prayer
for an ending to appear

where you'd tell me it was you
and then i'd know for sure

within this - another part of me says
' get over it '

but i think about you when i hear my name
i can't help it


00:00

my little cuts aren't healing
because i won't let them close

from my youth up i loom here
melancholic is easy to be

i keep seeing you in my sleep
more clearly as you fade away in reality

this loss is heavy
no halting hello from twigs but a goodbye from you