You are on my mind. You are on my mind because something is on your mind, and it isn’t me. You are consumed with something in your head and you are moving toward it, away from me.
In bed you threw a leg and an arm over me in your sleep. It felt so heavy I struggled to breathe but I didn’t dare move you. What a wonderful way to suffocate.
Then the alarm goes off and I have to get up and leave. One of us is always leaving the other. Today it is me.
You are the grounded earth and I am the fickle sky and on the horizon your green and my blue make the fuzzy grey line where we mix, where we blend, where we are “we” and “us.”
You are still the earth and I am still the sky and my kisses don’t stick. You keep moving. Or maybe I do? But that place where our lips touch, where our bodies meet, where we are skin to skin and indistinguishable from one another is the place of sunrises and sunsets. It’s a place of stunning, fleeting beauty.
How did we get so close? How did we attach like watercolors bleeding into each other? It doesn’t matter how it happened now. It doesn’t matter what storm or sunny day tricked us into “us.” It can’t be undone easily. And I don’t want it to be undone, though eventually it will be. We were never meant to be together.
These accidents of love are the hardest to undo.
Now the sun has set and I’m filled with a mad kind of love, like electric storms flashing in a dry sky I’d do anything to bring you back. I’d do anything to fix your bad days, make you smile, hear you laugh. I’d give you rain to nourish you and sun to make you grow. I’d give you the night and the day if you would stay.
But I am the fickle sky and you are my earth. With the passing of time, you slip away and so do I. The time of our accidental love has run out. The sun has set, colors faded. The cool air feels brisk against my skin and tomorrow is a new day and a new love.