sure, i might not have always known it, but i've always felt itMature

This is about some six thousand four hundred days
I spent swallowing down air like it could fill me up,
lift me right up into orbit.  The days I spent
thinking there was anything I could want more than
the sound of your heartbeat thrumming against my spine,
your lips a whisper against the soft skin of my shoulder.
This is about how I spent six thousand four hundred days
living out a life that did not seem broken or absent
until the day I set eyes on you and felt the crushing pressure
of nearly seven thousand absences all at once.

The End

7 comments about this poem Feed