“And now that we

have both stabbed each other

with our fears and anxieties,

maybe we can begin to bandage

all these wounds

and heal together.”


Dashed hopes.

A backpack

anchors one shoulder,

this body to the ground.

About to fly away.

Your smile, your last wave, your back

turning from me.

My eyes give chase:

your curls, your slow saunter, your calves.

This gate is too great a chasm

for my heart to leap,

and this gray building collapses in on me,

crumbles to the ground.

In the chaos,

a gasp for breath

and the Sun shining in.