I have kept
all your words safe
in the flowers that dried
pressed next to the stories
you left,
and the pace at which
you were running towards sun,
I hope somehow
you have learnt to rest.
There’s something
very primal the way
your words are building home
in my chest now,
In distance
we are growing close to each other
and I don’t know how.
I know someday we’ll meet
at the cliff before falling off
or learning to fly,
Maybe this way
sky will teach us to live a little
before we finally die.
Also, Instagram