so the palm i was clutching like sap; the glorified mountain of my girlhood; the footprints in the snow that i so needed to match; the roar of a sea and its depths; the weight of guilt; the terminal fear...
all of it is yours.
we entangled ourselves like soul mates. we lived in a sanctuary of sawdust and pine needles; we needed each other and glorified one another and broke the other's heart...
i met you today in your safe world, buffered with miles of silent forest (how you always liked it), your person knows only perfect ritual: the slow pour, the straight lines, the incessant need to please. sending your grains and offerings out to that satellite world, the one you could never trust.
you might never know this, but it receives you...
it loves you and you will never know this.
i can't help but mourn for you, sawdust soul mate.
i can't help you so i am leaving you here.
to travel the scope of my lightness, a savior from your sea,
and burn with all you ever wanted to be.
i will be your satellite world, i will bear you gifts...
i will receive you and love you
but mourn you no more
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