Undated.

It is already summer. I had hoped for mornings spent sweating into your arms and onto your chest but instead I bleed into my brain with all the things left undone and unsaid, there was never enough time because I never envisioned the leaving coming so soon. Or maybe I stopped waiting. Or maybe I have better things to do. Or maybe you never liked me anyway. Maybe you were slow. Maybe I was impetuous. Maybe your arms never got around me. Maybe I am a master of escape. Maybe I always knew better. Maybe I don't have a clue. I can philosophise in a million directions, I can map the expanse of your shoulders in the grey morning light, we can fill the space between us with something thick and sweet and watch each other drown, I can spend the last stretch of my expiring youth fancying that I wasn't wrong and that you felt it too, I can slide headlong into winter and away from all this but I don't forget. I forgive but I don't forget.