acquiesced in the dark
vayne altapascine
it dawned on me slowly–
a realization ashen in crisp leaves
the sound, sudden and swift,
a roaring so tense yet alive
i worry i've finally lost it:
you will one day find your way too
that this (whatever i promise this is)
will be obsolesced by the world
that we will be obscured
the forest entrance buried
the caverns made concrete
the stone path turned powder.
we will fracture and the world i knew
will be split: an
uncharacteristic recollection
of optimisms and followthroughs
i never would have known without having loved you
and the misanthropic flagellation
so earnestly yours, who would have known it was
really just me buried in your backyard?
and the crook of sunlight will remind me what it was like knowing
what this safety was like, what this worry was like, what this
insolent devastation was like, that i’d sooner forget
“what was land even like?”
before “what was even real before you?”
and i’d make the promise everyday as i always would have
and i’d want to lie to myself and think i was good to you
(even as you promised me i was)
(to which, i’d be charitable when we were on the floor)
(and, to that, i know you would have chastised me with a wry smile)
and i’d close my eyes, to chisel this memory as an eternal moment
between the what-could-have-beens and half-asleep-beside-you-in-beds
and i’d summon all vanishings i’ve had
just to keep this and you and grieve a little
just a tiny bit
less
but this is not a prayer.
this is not rejection of our misalignment.
we are made immortal, conceived and consoled at once,
then diverging, six seconds off and trapped eternities apart.
the gods do not owe me.
only you are owed eons by the loving i’ve left untouched.