She watches a sunrise, long

after me—the same

sunrise—my eyes see it and keep it clandestine because

even the sunrise knows

it’s not complete

until she sees it, counterparts of light,

she is sunrisical.


We’re worlds apart.

Three weeks in our own world,

living as careless lovers, lost

in each other, as if existence was conditional,

we lived in each other, sailing on waters unchartered,

somewhere in our hearts, connected,


through the abyss, we haven’t landed yet, running

beyond that gate we opened, now lost

in a world hurled into because

Life, torn

apart but

I won’t let this storm inside

rip my sails apart,


I’ll keep rowing, even when

the wind dies down

and a fog descends; I’ll follow

my incomplete heart to find

the place she is.


These ghosts that live

all around me—reminders of

her—haunt me because

there is no other way, breathing

in every memory, oxygen isn’t enough, she sits

on a mountaintop

in my mind

and the path to her

is steep

and rocky

and if I rest

I might fall.

I’ll reach the top.

I’ll reach her, climb


until I reach her.

And when I do

I’ll breathe in the fresh air of her,