Dance, I told you.

One of these days I’ll heat up the moon and my skin will melt on to it and it’ll glow with the dust as it mixes together with the winds from the sky.

I told you.

I told you that there is fire in the depths of not belonging and my unrest is shadowed by doubt. Did I tell you?

That the old and the new are merging together and the sun and the sky are searching for something better.

Did I let you know?

That even though here is where I’ve always wanted to be the edges are blurring and I can feel myself being pulled back into the middle of nowhere.

Can I say?

That there have been decades of longing in the middle of the ocean with the heat of the sun on my shoulders.

can I tell you?

That there is nothing and everything and moments are fleeting and in this place here and now I know I will listen.

I should have said, I should have said, I should have said everything and I should have been clearer.

Because all I can think about when I think about you is old moons and scars and little ounces of hope in the midst of everything we knew.

There has been so much pressure.

Pushing me up and pushing me down and did I tell you that I love it and I love it without you.

Did I tell you that I heard your name in an empty bar and the room started spinning and I realized that forevermore you will be a name that I hear in the background and not the one that I say because I am no longer speaking about you.

I don’t care I don’t care, I’ve told everyone I don’t care, I’ve given my solace to the world in which you and I are pieces that melded together in a place where promises went unbroken.

I’ve given, I’ve given, given up and given down on remembering the way your hand felt here.

Dance, I told you, its our last. 


Image by: Alessio Lin

A Short Conversation is a collection of stories, thoughts, and general musing. I like to write like I'm slamming a door; loudly, and with purpose.

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