On the Soft-Dying Day

April 24, 2015

Sitting on this Ferris wheel with you,

A leaf slapped me in the face.

And I was thinking, it was painted in the same hue as your eyes--

Brown--

It was fluttering, a great moth perched on my nose,

And it was whispering that we were ending.

There you are, that great aspen tree,

Letting me go when I'm not ready,

Horizons twirling round shattered seconds,

I fell for you so hard my spine crumbled like brown sugar lumps,

Crumpled like every draft of this wretched poem

Before you held it in your perfect hands.

Looking up into your ruffled branches,

I exhale into the cool soil.

I'm so so sorry

But you must understand

I cannot do this "attached" thing anymore.

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