LIBRARY OF WRONGRESS

waiting

she’s wrapped up in blue,
dark like the early night sky,
as the stars begin to pierce through,
satin and unbound.

am i the only one who remembers?

she’s sitting in a garden,
legs crossed,
bougainvillea weaving through her hair,
handing me a segment of a grapefruit.

i’ve lost her again,
the crowd flowing like the sea,
waves of faces passing by me,
crashing into me like waves
into rocky cliffs.
she’s the rock,
i don’t know what i am.

her fingers are between mine,
knitting a clumsy tapestry
as we walk down the lane,
lavender fields on either side of the path.

we spoke once of sharing a grave,
double wide,
where we could stay like this forever.
i’m not sure where she put me
when i died,
but i’m still waiting for her.



2021