it started out high, the sharp white zig-zag of electricity
zinging from sky to sand; people walking hand in
hand, as if nothing were happening, as if every-
thing happening between them was all that
mattered, was all they saw. i saw the ground
being split open, and shards of sand singeing to
glass; i saw a mass of people being murdered by
the elements. i saw. but i was walking alone, along the
beach, my head full of static things i couldn’t shake.
then, suddenly, a piece of me was transported to
you, to the home of your face: your eyes, your
laughing mouth, the glow of your hair sweeping
down and across as you spoke into and about
machines. i was there in spirit; i watched you pace
the floor, chew your lip, glance up through those
black & gold strands to track on the tv. i saw. i wanted to
be seen, but i knew i was incomplete, sitting there in a
vapor stupor—feeling a solid betrayal.
this is not how i wanted this to happen:
this is not how i thought it would be. i should
feel utter glee right now, sitting two feet from
you in your unarmored air; but instead i feel sick.
somehow you discover me there, place your steady
hand on my hair, smooth back my fever, whisper
gently that i need to go. i know—
i know it’s time to move on beyond this non-being;
beyond this waiting and wanting and wishing.
but—to hear your voice, to see you mime that note, to watch you
scoop up the moment with your arms and sing to the four walls—
was a private sacred beauty that will devastate me forever.