It’s like you’re holding a glass vase, and I spend my whole life watching you drop it until it shatters.
The silence between us is growing,
like bacteria in a wound;
like the universe;
like the center of the earth.
I wish for wings to cross the distance.
I wish for a sword to battle the monsters.
I want to make everything perfect,
then, I am sure, you will love me.
You will see me in the light of the stars.
You will hold my face between your hands.
“Ah,” you’ll say,
“Ah.” and you’ll understand
it was always me.