Emily

Emily, your white dress

looks so lonely

in the middle of the night,

like a patch of snow,

not ready to burn

a hole out of heaven.

I fold your translucent soul,

like folding a letter from home.

Emily, the book of my journey

has only one page in it,

with life and death

written on each side.

The land a giant corpse,

I trudge across the margin

of every single silent wound.

Emily, the cold darkness of evening,

eclipses my heart;

I disassemble my bones

for the recreation

of a single lonely torch.

Emily, I’m tiredness without a name,

fear without a lover’s sorrow.

Emily, I’m waiting for my Godot

on a rainy summer day

where God feels like crying,

and I want to bless him.

Emily, with lava inside of me,

I can’t help but ache.

I roam across the world, barefoot,

Emily, catch me, and teach me

how to

fall

.

2022.5-6