"It wasn’t raining the day you left,
and maybe that’s why I didn’t see this coming.
Because it’s always raining in poems
decides to call it quits,
but with you,
it was mostly just an empty sky.
You told me we were both loaded guns
with no targets left to shoot at,
and that it was time to love in softer ways.
I pray the words don’t leave me the way you did.
Too much quiet and no thunder to warn
about the way I’ll start counting
the earth’s rotations wondering if I am really
going somewhere or not.
Turns out I don’t need your weight
on top of me for the planet
to tilt from the enormity of what lives underneath my skin.
Turns out it takes almost ten minutes
for the sun to reach out far enough to hold my hand
from where she’s singing
and even less time
when no one’s standing in my way."