the longing to have been there
all along, beside him.
to belong on every mouth
and every-body,
to belong inside every person he’s ever been inside of.
“i was there.” i tell myself
“i’ve always been there.”
don’t dilute
don’t sever
you are all that he has loved in others,
he has seen you in their smiles,
their legs, their hair.
he has loved the clouds,
and you
have always been part of them.
don’t forget your vastness
your glow.
“the sun.” he said, “that’s what you remind me of.”
on more serious nights
he has called you the moon.
on colder nights
he said, you were lava.
every other day,
he calls you his wife.
