Gravitation

I heard you screaming. You felt like it was all over, I could smell the fear on you. I stood, your fingertips to my toes, you clutching the last bit of dirt, and behind you, an expanse of sky like nothing else. You were crying and I was silently staring.

Your fingers, elegant, twisted like in a dance and you let the dirt slip from between your thumb and index. You carved a path through the sky in your mind and pretended you were falling. Perhaps you were, but I wasn't in much of a position to condescend.

See you had it wrong, I wasn't atop a cliff, I was underground. You were crouching on the last patch of dirt above my tightly packed frame. I was buried under the soil and you were trying to claw me out. So perhaps you were falling, but the sky did not consume you. It consumed me as I watched you try to revive what we both knew was no longer a soul. An empty encantation of what could have been a spark at one point, now added up to ash. Do not feel remorse, for I will feed the seeds growing beneath your feet, and I will grow into a mighty house of wood and denim and I will hold you closer inside of me than you have ever been.

Do not fall off the face of the Earth please, I am coming to greet you soon, so smile, and find distant dreams located in the starlined skyscape. My dusty fingers can already feel your feeble frame. A touch goodnight love, a kiss more in thought than practice. I still love you, of course.

But see this way, I won't be holding you down.
I will be lifting you and sheltering you from the coming shower.
And you can find yourself in me, in time.
And we can be alright, because after all, that's all there really is.