By Aevin Mayman
Once, I was your
leaf, you were my
stem. I gave you everything;
love, light, time, hope,
and you held me up
to the light and through it
I let myself pour everything
down to
you.
I thought that was how it was going to be.
That we would be locked
in this symbiosis of devotion
until the brilliant end.
But now it has changed.
Always blindly moving forward,
trying not to care as much,
you decided to leave your
exquisite nature in that last
fallacy of a hotel room.
The you I used to know is gone.
It was left behind when you decided
long-term-love wasn’t as exciting
as it once seemed.
Maybe you’re too loose in
your skin to find meaning behind a
kiss.
Do you remember when you used to love me,
or the trip we took to the desert–
before you thought me too uneventful to love?
On the sand you also wore on your skin,
I traced patterns of a life we could have lived.
The life I thought we would.
Greedy waves of air curled in from
outside our window,
plucking away this love of ours
with long, selfish fingers.
The CD spun and called out
to some indifferent God with its song:
“together forever.”
Do you remember,
under more of a sky than we had ever seen in our city,
how we verified each other’s existence
with star light?
How we used to be able to read the curves
of each other’s bones
like maps to salvation?
But time has passed.
This Infinity Knot of ours has broken.
We have grown.
We have changed.
I am strong.
Your life is marked with nothing but
zeroes.
Post Script Magazine. 