I’d prefer to leave before the encore;
to pull the marshmallow from the fire, just
before it catches;
I hope to someday remember, fondly, your eyes
full of hope, not knowing this
is our last night.
I like to watch the Perseids before my eyes fully adjust
just me, alone, beneath the black-blanket stars,
consumed by the heathered face of space.
I can’t imagine this life without you,
or the incredible curse of this life with you.
I can’t believe it took this long to realize,
I can’t swallow the bitter taste of truth.