I swim against
There are days that pass, they come in waves of weeks and months, and I don’t even think of you.
But when I do, I remember those bitter moments; they stain like wine on a wedding dress.
You crawl in through sound waves of the songs that we shared, burying yourself in the deepest parts of me.
You smell of sweat and apologies; you offer them up like a Sunday’s communion.
I do not drink, I do not eat.
I swim against the waves of the days in between the months and weeks that crash into me.
I refuse to think of you.