It’s like falling—
the sudden jump of nothing
catches in my throat
and drops far below
what I thought.
I bury myself
in the ambient sounds of the world
and hold on,
hold on so hard my fingers ache.
Afraid that if I open
my eyes and open my hands
that you will drift away—
lost in the eddy of light
that bathes me in pale warmth.
Orange isn’t a comfort
when it’s not only the sun that sets.
Dark brings the rain
and the ocean to swallow me whole.
I crave the light to return,
to set the world ablaze.
In the morning, though,
it doesn’t bring you back.
It’s like falling.
JKolasch
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