I sat down at my old wooden desk that smells of pine needles
And found a formula to forget
I calculated and created, imagined and
speculated
All for my oblivion
Early in the morning I fell across a
conclusion of sorts
Not a perfect answer but a stable estimation
I calculated that for every look
I must look twice into his eyes
For every light angel wing touch
I must become the angel
For every time my name was said in velvet
I must say my name with stone
For every long goodbye
A brief hello
For every kiss that brought stars to my door
And shivers to my core
I must deny him my brittle heart
6 in the morning and the equation was done
With empty coffee cups and wet cheeks
With every line cross and ink-stained thumb
I discovered through my bleary sleep-ailed eyes
I cannot rewrite his lips from my skin
I cannot wipe the words from my lips
Or the jumps in my bones at his touch
But I can fall asleep in sun-drenched blankets
And remember them as old friends taken
too soon
And bury them under the daisy-sprung soil