sunshowers

estefaaano_writes 

-

the sky cracks open,

spills its silver grief in dainty shards,

drops a murmur of words 

we dared never speak.

I traced the ruins of our summer.

found you,

still living in the flowers

sweet and sharp as bruised fruit, 

falling apart.

tell me, love, 

do you still remember when desire ran thick 

and slow through your veins, 

and when my name was prayer to your tongue?

now sunlight bleeds through storm clouds,

I count the weeks in silence,

each day its own small death.

wind carries you through the leaves,

caught between what was 

and the impossible forever.

—

some nights I wake 

to your ghost 

pressed warm against my ribs,

whiskey-soft, 

sharp as winter air.

I know by heart the weight of absence. 

from wrong tilts of morning lights, 

to coffee tasting like ash 

without you to share the bitter sweetness.

the garden grows wild without us.

roses climb toward the indifferent sky,

no longer knows our names,

thorns drunk on rain

and the salt of my wanting.

in sleep,

you return as storm.

I wake electric, 

my flesh a tempest with nowhere to break.

the sky weeps sunshowers,

to mourn long forgotten days.

I wander through the garden of yesterdays,

the petals still hold stolen breaths

the blooms still remember your skin.

sweet ghost, 

do you still think of me?

does my name still taste like honey,

or have you learned to swallow it whole?

sunshowers,

it's been weeks since we last spoke,

weeks since I was anything 

but silence beneath your ribs.

this ache, 

beautiful and terrible,

refuses to let me go.

the garden grows wild without us.

even the earth forgets

the weight of our bodies,

grass growing tall where we once lay,

erasing us blade by blade.

while your heart beats elsewhere, 

unmarked by mine.

love letter written in a dead language,

beautiful; unread.

to love without answer is to cradle the void,

to bloom unseen in a garden of one,

to be both flower and grave.