It is Mirror that is broken
Into shards which reflect back
Every angle yet still cut me
When you remember and recall
The one summer, that one person.

(But make sure you understand it's not the memory or the person.
Just the reflection cast back which reminds me so much of myself.)

Today I lay there stretched out sleeping
In a room adjacent to your breathing
While the rain came and silenced
All the children outside playing
Until I came and sat beside you.

(I sat in your chair thinking of your shadowed outline dreaming.
I saw a single darkened hand cast to the side of daylight fading.)

And nothing is easy inside me
It all forwards one to another
Movements multiplying rapid
Memories of moments
And cold Fall beginnings and endings.

(I think it was sometime in November stretching on into December.
You returned with pomegranates in January and we broke free to last all year.)

All somehow eludes
The ability to not be amazed
To not be so fascinated
By every inclination every memory
That you can bring forward.

(It always catches me off guard and brings me square around again.
I so often come face to face with the fact that you're astounding.)

But I am back in the adjacent room lying
No longer near your shadow that is dreaming
I am near the rainfall that is thumping
Writing a version of this complication
And I am missing you so badly.