i.
listen, it's like this: i tried to tell you that i loved you, and you were standing right there but you were much too far away to hear me.

ii.
what i did was lay out in the middle of the street at midnight, and counted what few stars i could see through the silhouettes of the pine trees. my eyes were awash with memories and the yellowish glow emanating from the streetlights. it started to rain, then, at twelve forty-two. one drop landed on my cheek and ran across the bridge of my nose. i'm sure i looked like i was crying, but there was no one there to see.
i pretended you were lying next to me, still holding my hand.

iii.
you are no longer substance to me, you are a shadow, you are a whisper spoken a moment too late. you are grains of sand and i spread my fingers too far apart, you slipped through the spaces. you could not stay.

iv.
i counted fifty-six stars that night.
i could not go.