It was a day like heartbeats and thick drums,
making each second present
and incapable of racing.
You were like the last bit of purified water,
trickling into the mud around my ankles
as I tried to aspire higher.
Each mistake reminded me of a determined splinter
as it cut through my thick red socks
and lodged itself near my heels.
And I tried to pull my hair back,
to sweat gracefully in glistening pride,
but beauty was secondary to principles in our case
and my happiness was secondary to yours, it seems.
But there’s only so much salt to give
when you’re fighting dehydration
and there’s only oxygen for one where I’m going
and not enough room in my bag for your love letters
and hearts are perishable so I guess it’s good
that I don’t have yours here as extra weight.