It hurts me to know
sometimes that I’ve lost
all the daylight in my bones
that when I call
you won’t pick up
and the words that you don’t say
cut me just as deeply
as that old table top
with the jagged edges
we called our own
little metaphor for
standing still
how getting there
also means not getting there
and when I think of you now
I think of what it means to love
without knowing how things will end
and how what we don’t know
is its own little blessing.
