When Infinity Ends

(5)

“you feel infinite.
what more could a human desire?”

he looks at me through
glass eyes
blue like the sky
and clouded over like a
bathroom mirror.

i shrug and turn
away from him.
i’ll never admit it but―
this is something i love.
the strange calm that falls
over me when i look
down at the bustling city,
a startling contrast that
makes me understand
why he chose this place.

(could i stay here forever too?)

the roof is my remedy
and it might sound strange
that a material object would make
me feel so
many emotions.

no.
things don't last forever.
it's not the roof i love
it's the person who is
always there
       waiting
      (waiting)
for me.

i sigh and watch my
breath trail through the
cold air
like the smoke from a candle
that's burnt out.
i'm all burnt out.

i wrap my arms around my
self and

“i guess i just like the view.”

because i’m too afraid to say
how i really feel
so i say what i would’ve said two years ago.

he says nothing and i know
the conversation
is over.
it only takes a moment for me to
look over to

my right

and he’s gone.

immediately
the air is colder without
his presence
or maybe i hadn’t noticed
until he left.
maybe it had never affected me
until he left.

it’s late
i know i should sleep
but i can’t when he’s not
here with me.

i take my time
returning to my room.
the day is over
and i sigh
because no moment is long enough
with him

and

it feels as though this
infinity of sadness
will never end.