the sign said "create"
so I wove you something beautiful
out of sand and kelp forests and
isn't it strange I can ramble on,
string words together that
remind me of you and somehow
it sounds poetic
because it is all
don't you know me by now?
I've passed you by one thousand times
but I'm just the second hand, ticking,
sixty to the minute
and you're hours and miles away.
if I said I had to read between the lines
you'd call me a cliché
and I'd call you a monster for making me
it's people like you who make me realize what
I'm missing, even though what I'm
missing is not in you it is around you.
after I left you
I walked outside
bare feet on the brick,
and the sun and the grass and the wind and the trees
they asked me
can you see us now?