Once the night has fallen,
the day you have lived is lost.
I’ve told you this,
so many times,
that of course,
I expect everyone to know,
but I still shine, forlorn under the glowing moon,
with eyes, wide like my hips,
my lips treated to the taste of my salty, insatiable tears.
I always forget,
that when the sun sets,
there is nothing left but forward steps,
nowhere else to go,
nothing else to live, but the rest of your life.
I cling to empty air,
closing my eyes so that I can’t see how final that goodbye really was.
The past is done with me,
and me? I am dumbstruck,
dawdling on the lawn in my best black dress,
with my grandmother’s ring on my finger,
and my grandfather’s scarf tied up in my hair.
I am covered in old and borrowed things,
betrothed to a blessing with sapphire sight,
living new days all the time,
sitting, sublime in black lace,
alone in the dark night,
but ready to change,
charging from my garden like an impatient butterfly.
Tomorrow I shall wear her ring.
Tomorrow won’t be like today.
Tomorrow won’t be like tonight.
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