NaPoWriMo 2023 — Day 26: “Incarnation”

26. Incarnation

I came to
remembering your face
there on the sad,
stumbling man
in the hotel hallway.
I remembered your
birthday a week too late
& saw your favorite
bird in the city park.
Sometimes
I am oblivious to signs,
& sometimes
I take everything
too metaphysically.

Today you’re all over me.
Your favorite color
dances across my dress
& my hair
is behaving itself
despite the winds.
Your name falls out
of an actress’s mouth
& your song’s playing
after a seven year silence.

There is a fine
line between torture
& synchronistic bliss
& I am twirling on it,
remembering our
celebratory dances,
two-stepping in
a Tampa bar, the first
awkward ask, the
outstretched hand,
the acceptance…

I do accept this,
your absence, but
the smell of subtle leather
that overwhelms me
when I least expect it
puts me right back
into your hugs.

I am reminded of all
I needed & how you
were never within
my reach & now that
the stars wink
according to your
footsteps, I learn
to forgive you
with an offering
of tears.

Take them from me,
along with the dreams
of you that I can’t
recall, make them
manifest so I can
recognize them,
recognize you,
in a new form,
in a new body,
on a new day
where it’s warmer
than when you left
the world so cold.

I believe,
because you promised
me I would, that I’ll
know exactly
always
where to find you.

Photo by Amine M’siouri