It was the first of February

A cold winter day

with brilliant sunlight chasing away

the gray doubts and questions

Could this really work?

Could we make a life together

in the bitter frigid North?

He cut his hair off the next day

I asked him why

He mumbled, ‘I can’t say’

and we went on

with a mystery that grew

like an octopus between us

things that came apart

we mended and repaired

But something underneath

was stalking our success

our home became divided

an invisible mess

We whirled around in the darkness

searching for our stability

we’d try to catch it

but then it would somehow slip

We bravely fought together

united we were so strong

though somehow the ground was shifting

and it wasn’t long

before we sensed a frantic helplessness

try to grab our dream and choke it

like rose petals

it scattered in th wind

I could not hold onto him for very long

it seemed no more than a day

He died in my arms in brilliant sun

and heat

surrounded us in mockery

there was so much left to say

He was like a moonbeam

fragile and yet bright

he slipped away into

the fog and night


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