Episodes

there won’t be a wedding, not joining us;

we know how to join ourselves so completely I forget what belongs to who,

lose myself so absolutely that you breathe for me (or through me),

fall so far up into your eyes that my heart beats your blood through my veins while my lungs give you oxygen.

I love falling in with you, dizzying depths deliver me from daily doldrums and daughter detritus.

We can’t stay here, though it’s the best space we’ve found in time.

Let’s leave the clocks open, forget to set the gate, and unwind the calendar.

Maps are just apps or scraps of paper that never fold up right,

jammed in a glove box, icons on a home screen.

We’ll never need them to find our way back. It lives in us, in the quiet space where names are just letters

with random capitalization, shapes on a page.

Let’s keep the shape shifting, let it be whatever it wants, curling up, spreading out, hiding in the deep, or disappearing into the night sky

like an airborne soldier.

I’m not ready

for our series finale.