I know you're looking at the sky, also.

I cannot settle for this - meaningless words
tossed about in the fantastical periwinkle illusion we assumed was
reality, urgent pleas in soft whispers sobbed into the phone:
please, don't go, please.

Do you reminisce about mid-August: late-night phone calls
with a sense of danger in fear of waking up parents who didn't understand,
rejoicing in the luster of a life beginning with a kiss,
living the teenage fairy-tale dream? Do you remember delicate promises
that were sighed in quiet splendor with all the truth one can offer,
to avoid shattering the fragile beauty of ignorant bliss? I do.

And I, I held you close to me
as if you were actually there.

I wonder if you recognized the shining hope wearing the guise of tears
and the words of love and devotion between the lines,
but if they were more obvious, if the subtlety that should never have
existed was removed, if you only knew, would you have
I ache for you and breathe you in like oxygen in a life-deprived world,
I need you as a broken heart needs a glimmer of hope
in desolation and abandonment.

How I would love to linger in the radiance of you, to weep on your shoulder
from an eclectic combination of emotions ranging from
the sorrow of not being able to hold you every second of every day
to the euphoria of merely knowing you.

And this is life, you say,
the purity of first love and childlike faith in honeyed dreams,
easily segueing into the equally innocent first heartbreak, caustic and
poignant, so surreal
and bittersweet like the tears that ration hope with
every trail they mark down our cheeks.

Summer gave in to autumn as I gave in to you.

You wouldn't like to see me now, reduced to a phantasm of myself, with a
refusal to settle for us immortalized in bliss, trapped within a picture
frame -
you had never wanted it to end this way.

And yet, I still possess this hope I had accumulated for six months of
ecstasy, which seems oddly real in my naiveté - and I know, somewhere
behind the hushed and repeated apologies and the finality of your words,

you still love me.