Leaving is certain

You crept onto my calendar

way more time dedicated to your presence than I knew was available for even myself

what was the point?

Circle the dates, see where you were, and then a whirly-whirly seed pod falls into my lap

is the point to disturb – then – or with silence?

I feel the calm of my pulse and as the breeze, you come and go, and that’s okay with me

it was then, and for now maybe

maybe, maybe

I want to know the outcome

when will you next leave? – at death, divorce, sickness, another, or now

leaving is certain


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