You called to skip your rocks
Across my glossy pond again
Life is never enough for you
Were you the child at the park with chubby fingers bursting bubbles?
I hang up and walk around the corner
Into a conversation between pizza and laundry
Where am I? I haven’t moved in seven years,
But still the question.
I’ve learned to love the breaking
Like turning off the water
So the pot boils faster
And we have frog soup for dinner again.
But what do I know?
The girl who let you touch her blind for three years,
but after six months your fingers couldn’t remember her ribcage
My invisible heart.
And still it doesn’t matter
Where you are because
I am always finding myself
Always in relation to you
A north star, a north pole
Recalling me from where I am going and repelling me from where I came
Without you, I’d float to space
And burn among the stars.