You were the skylight for my mountain,
the sunroof for my eyes.
You traded them for your own,
one eye for the other:
every small movement of my head
followed you in a corner.
You told me you couldn’t sleep alone—
and even there you were so unachievable
home with you had a feeling like forever.
Ah…I have climbed my
mountain
and written your name
in the sand.
I have lingered in the
waves, your sunlit beaches
carving your name with
flint
on the rocks that line
the shore.
The waves, I know,
will wipe them away.
You were the skylight
for my mountain,
the telescope to my
skies.
In time I have watched
my ceilings descend from above me;
my raised arm reaches them
easily,
lying across from me
in the bed
the movers will take
tomorrow
(How much did you sell
it for?
How I despise the sight of your boxes against the wall)
my fingers leaving easy
smudges
on the surface of your
glass.
I wish there could
have been more
for me to give you.
