i can narrow it down to the last minute we talked
i could probably tell you –
what constellation i was standing under
as you told me about
the last three years of your life
that i wasn’t invited into
but that’s ok.
i don’t fault you for it.
we worked hard
to stretch our skins thin enough
to build shelters for each other.
white people love to say
that there’s no way to say goodbye in my language.
but i think i am going to invent one
because saying goodbye feels a lot better
than continuously saying
i will see you soon
when we both know
that lies can be woven together
but still let the water slip through.
we sat on the beach and laughed
before we put
these mountains between us.
we were always good at forcing smiles
into places meant for words.
you can’t build yourself a home
with someone else’s bones
you can’t force yourself into
without first asking
if you are a story
they want to tell.
i miss our
laughter echoing throughout
this coast neither of us belong to.