A Seven Day Heartbreak - an Aubade

October 2019

On the first day, I was struck.

Not by Him but by a confused opponent.

Caught in the floundering, all I could see was

a fire-orange streetlight.

Then I felt Him.

I don’t know what part of me

felt what part of Him,

but I felt Him as I fell

through grey waters of green moss.

The salt jabbed at my throat.

On the second day, I was loved.

It was only on this day,

though certainty remained a luxury.

He showed me light,

and how the sun glowed the warmest

and most beautifully

as it left.

On the third day, I was stuck.

He revealed Himself, a parrot,

with no thought of his own.

I envied the animals we saw

at the zoo, for only having known

a life in captivity.

For having a life for death,

and death alone.

On the fourth day, I was fucked.

It was a beautiful fucking,

only as allowed by the withering of time.

The remnants of the arched shivers

have turned into aftershocks of shudders.

My limbs, once a loose street-corner night,

now restrict into shadows at the sight of Him.

On the fifth day, I was shunned.

I fell through staircases that surrounded me.

There were no landings for rest.

Small windows allowed light, but

all that could be seen through them were

Scowling faces. Scolding faces. “You’re-scum” faces.

Mirrors were also there but they

were no option for consolation. 

On the sixth day, I was gone.

I was only my breath.

A heat source.

A cloud of condensation

killed instantly

by stinging cold.

The seventh day was a naive day.

I rose tentatively, unfamiliar with

feeling my lungs full of air.

I moved toward a mirror and a

blurred girl faced me. Her eyes

resembled tulips, slits framed by 

delicate petals. They presented

A curiosity of the desperate sort.

I allowed Her, legs fumbling,

to come to me. I swayed with Her

until dawn, feeling her juts of silk

within my crossed arms. Hard buds

softened under my fingers,

a release. She, as silent as I,

dissolved into me

when tears ceased to fall.