: 5am and Geoglyphs :
People talk about us in hushed tones.
They watch us in the same way
that you watch a car crash.
And they whisper about us,
in the same way that you are taught not
to speak ill of the dead.
People talk about us,
In memoriam,
In peace,
In pieces.
People talk about us,
as if all we did was break.
As if we were something unbearably tragic.
As if we were just two people who shattered,
until there weren’t enough splinters of us left,
To make mosaic hearts out of.
But all I remember,
are cracks around your eyes.
You laughed so hard that
it left geoglyphs in the soft expanse of your skin.
And I loved you,
I loved your Nazca laughter lines.
I remember fearlessly,
furiously,
loving you.
People talk about us,
as if all we did was break.
But everything that has broken,
was once gorgeously whole.
We broke a few times.
But we loved so many more.
(I actually gave something a title! Are you so, so proud of me?)
