Shooting Stars & Neon Lights

In Another Life

I adore the East Coast summer nights. We connect constellations and scatter stars across our skin. In this other life I have with you. We walk, hand in hand. Spend Sundays writing love notes on Post-Its, tucking them into each other’s jean pockets. We love our love in letters, lists, and lightyears. In this other life I have with you.

I connect the dots with freckles on your arms. You kiss the scar that runs straight down my spine. We are filled with hope and wonder. The darkness has not found us. In this other life I have with you. You finish school. Get a great job in the big city. I write, and write, and write some more. You are my muse. I find inspiration in mason jar oddities and burnt strips of sage. I anticipate your homecoming every evening. We stargaze. You patch my old wounds. In this other life I have with you.

We get matching sparrow tattoos – our symbol of bright and wild love. Forever young. We ride the carousel on Coney Island and sweat out the heat wave by making love where wildflowers grow. In this other life I have with you. Our world of two is sweet. Like petals dipped in honey. We close our eyes and bask in our chemical romance. In this other life I have with you.

I haven’t pushed you away. I haven’t destroyed us. In this other life.

I can barely hear your name, see your photograph, smell your cologne, without fracturing apart. Like an imploding star. My bones shift, my soul ruptures. The bouquet of wildflowers dies. In this life. I am lovesick. I’ve gone mad. I forget to put the lid on the peanut butter and I store the television remote in the fridge. In this life.

I am a lunatic kind of lover. I miss building treasure maps on your freckles. I move quickly. Recklessly. I collapse in the heat wave. Electricity does not shock me; it numbs me. In this life. I let the wildfire burn around me. It is not light; it is ash. I remember our love as beautiful as footprints on the moon. As astonishing as shooting stars and neon lights. As tangled roots and fibrous flesh.

And I have not loved like that since. In this life.

 

 

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