Day 306: five, four, three, two, one.

eighteen

seventeen

sixteen

fifteen

weʻve been counting down since the beginning

its kind of our thing

we place the pacific between our bodies

and we count the stars that separate us in days

weʻd count the moon

but we can only see one

and thats not enough syllables to keep our tongues busy in our loneliness

so in the meantime

we count up on our right hand to infinity

and down on our left

til the day weʻll see each other again

say its a fun game

so we dont have to cry

cuz then we would be sore losers

and no one wants to be a sore loser

i say fourteen

thirteen

twelve

eleven

and you, you are somewhere in the millions

somewhere high above our bodies

drifting through the atmosphere

you must of cheated

skipped a few thousands

but i dont say a thing

cuz i think you desire to win is adorable

and no one wants to be a tattle tale

we switch roles

and you take over my number

ten

nine

eight

seven

six

but im lost somewhere in space between one million and infinity

the emptiness seems too vast to document

i get frustrated sometimes with the numbers that separates us

and i cry

and you call me ridiculous

but you know its not because there are too many stars

its because theire arent enough

and not nearly enough are aligned tonight

otherwise weʻd be seeing the same constellations

but you can barely see the moon in this part of california

let alone orions belt

maybe thats the problem

i can love

what i dont see

but i cannot see what i know i love

----

i dont want to count anymore...