[daydreams of fake people]
sometimes
she was a
morning
when her breath smelled like
coffee
and
when her eyes looked like
clouds
she was a 9 am winter
sometimes
she was a
night
when her fingers felt like
soft
sand
and
when her lips tasted like
sweet
citrus
she was a 9 pm summer
you know
the way that light reflects water?
the rippling on the trees
the soft movement,
you know?
her mind worked like that.
she processed things
in waves
so beautifully
she was the only girl
i loved
who loved me as much as i
loved her
and our separation
was nothing more
than a leaf falling off a tree
a slow drift
and a happy wave goodbye
-wrote this at the kitchen table, during the middle of winter and summer