it’s been a really long time, my goodness.
i remember how we got here:
nights staring out at a balcony of stars hanging
over a patched up quilt of saturated water colours
feeling like we could breathe in their burning ashes;
light up a soft wish about
you loved to say: move the box, hold your place,
wipe the dust, things aren’t half as arduous as they seem
because you should never forget
that breathing alone is a delight,
a privilege, unnoticed and necessary,
burning tracks against weary lungs.
it runs silently in our veins.
we always called you space boy,
quiet and star-loving with soft breaths slowing;
craned neck, fists clenched.
there was always so much about the sky
that you’d wanted to explore, that you once said
that you never knew where to begin.
now: there is so much that i want to tell you,
and nowhere to begin.