You told me you stopped writing.

Flashback//
envying you
with your quick wit and your ability to charm
a whole room in one breath,
i was a speck compared to your
grandeur
and i wanted to taste you.

You told me you've met someone.

Flashback//
becoming enamored with you, the way you would
wrap your arms around me
and feed me delicious words
because you always had candy dripping from your tongue
and knew
i had a weakness
for sweets.

You told me you might visit.

Flashback//
holding you while you sang like the summer rain,
the sky stayed bright and I felt the
story blossom in me like
fireworks
with a brilliant bang
and i started writing furiously all the time
because if i stopped i feared we might
stop
and you were the only one who made me feel so creative.

I told you the embers in my heart still burn.

Flashback//
watching you leave, walking like a wounded sparrow
back through our old places with only
a little bit of your breath left in my lungs
to aspirate,
not enough to be as marvelous as i
felt before, but enough to suffice
for that faint, but steady feeling of hope.


You haven't called since.