I remember when you were walking away
the trains labored to keep time
The tracks were frozen
and my heart kept pace.
12:30
as you walked underneath
the clock overhead
pointing away.

Your strides always fell behind mine
I’d slow down as you held me back in line
and whispered to leave the rush and keep the time.

We got here
because of your hatred of fear.
That child who broke your heart
who cheated and smeared the entrails
in front of you to hear:
Her name was Jane.

She remained
above our surface
No matter the dive
deep inside, below whatever kept that alive
we always came back for air.

Whatever I shaped
you pushed and pushed away
the feelings of her name, his name.
Your worry lines narrated times
of your past present in the future,
never trusting a being again.
My hope, over many months as colors changed,
was pictured in frames of different days
if you had never met him, a separate physical plane,
where we grew to walk in time.

I think you trusted him
with every speck and freckle,
dime and nickel,
tangible, intangible.
Trust is a gesture that leaves us
and empowers the others hold, thus
we become one, vulnerable
to be crushed, faithful
to be forever loved.
I held but felt
the former had its say
for no more gestures would be made.
There’s only so much blood the heart will bleed
till its worn and withered away.

Years later,
I wrote you a letter
that remains unanswered,
and I still wonder if you feel the same.
I dream sometimes we’re still entwined
after getting through what we had to
and you became
you,
whole and true,
knowing how much I loved you.

Months before we met,
I saw you
in that floral print
to your knees it went
as your little Converse kicks
scuffed up the dance floor.
Guy after guy approached,
you smiled,
shook your head no,
and danced alone.