The Free Fall
This is the story of how I loved you and learned to let you go:
I remember the day we met
and how I first learned smiles were contagious.
How the sunlight saturated our lazy bones awake
while we sipped coffee between conversations.
How for a second the universe
was a tiny fleck of gold in your iris.
I wanted to burn out right then on fire
with my tiny asteroid heart in my hands
displayed before you.
I hoped that you'd take it,
so that I wouldn't have to curl
these aching fingers into fists
and wish for more galaxies
while the stars fall like sand
between my palms and off my wrists.
I'm sure you'll try to catch them,
spin them into wishes stitched into
threads of your iridescent soul.
But the truth is you and I are a dying planet
and I've had to learn to let it go,
each and every hazy halo round
our spherical torso.
There is beauty in embracing gravity
and spiraling in the free fall,
there is beauty in knowing
that once you breach
the stratosphere's luminescent silver lining
you can face anything,
anything at all.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world