I am too old
to still pretend
that like you
I too saw the rainbow

I didn’t

yes I looked for it
but for me the skies
did not make love
upon an ocean’s dream
this time

and yes
it does stir at my intimate emptiness
to admit that

(in the way breathing
as an act of love
sometimes feels
like screaming an ocean
into the void beneath my breastbone
without even a sigh’s reply)

as though I am not part of this story,
not even of its audience,
I am just the page you forgot to write it on.

and no I did not see the shooting star either
nor would I make a wish
because I am now at the age of my third heartbreak

and nowhere else do I feel as welcome
as I do onto this silence
that sits like a tightrope suspended between our bracing lips

and I could wish that I no longer feared falling
but I too feel somewhat welcome there

how can one not when he is quicksand

when every touch
collapses me
collapses you
collides us

I am smaller than you think I am!

please tell me that you know that

please show me
that I fit
in the palm of your hand

like spring

and peel from me
these memories
of a lifetime looking in.