By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo

 

I should be walking with you, here
singing with you
I should be …
I should be …
so many “should bes”
that may no longer be

so I surrender you
to the soil
again and again
you, in each seed
in each cutting
watch them grow
watch you grow

I bury you, on the ground
with each tree, I bury
my anger
my sadness
my love
so we can live
so I can live

I breathe you
in each passing wind
in the dew, each morning

I smell you in each bud
awakening to the sun
in its texture, I touch
your skin

I kiss you, an image of you
imagined, in absolute madness
the one that refuses to get buried
or survived the fire, that consumed
your letters
it’s not the same, as I remember
I have forgotten most everything
I have forgotten how to kiss
the way we did, under the spell
of a wide-eyed moon

in time, I will forget
faster than slowly
slowly, like a novel
deleting itself,
word for word
blurring snapshots of joy
of us, nibbling on ripe mangoes
dripping fresh juices
on each other’s fingers

a little longer, stay a bit more
stay, as a laughter
as the spontaneous smirk to a bad joke
a cry of protest against norms
as an irritation of a chronic allergy
stay, even as a mistake
the “mistakiest” mistake

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