the day is cold but the sun is fighting through
i am fighting through.
my dress pulls at me, and the fog folds my hair into lipstuck strands.
i kiss the wind today,
because it reminds me of you.

many doors opened and closed today,
many rooms I'll never see again, and new rooms, too.
windows on nothingness,
a terrarium in the clouds, my own stone
well,
well, but not my own,
found like a stone on the beach,
waiting for me to pick it up.
it'll be a stone far longer than it will be my stone.
and who can envy a stone,
when there are so many stones?
so many beaches?
when for our whole lives we just have just this one life.

this minute is the blade of living and dying, blessed,
and god-damned.
each moment is the feather and the scalpel.
the wave is here, oh
are you coming?