Newton's Law

on the morning you wake up

to find

your flesh separating from the bone

and the sun whispering through the curtains of your eyelids

peel yourself from the skin of your couch

pull your breath from the rest it requests

find the pride you left yourself in the corners

do not wait for the walls to blink you through

when the window in your heart has finally closed

and love is so lost

there is no wind left

the civil war in your blood has paused

move yourself away for the still of your home

somewhere to teach you to recognize movement

again

so the next time someone leaves you

you know it in her shaking

rather than through all the shattering space you find in her departure

When the thunder begins

Dance your way back to the sea

Surrender the weight of your casing to the ocean

remember what it is like to be held by something that breathes

call out her name

over

as the tide falls through you

until you can imagine the scent of her return

wish her image into the rip of the sea at your ankles

remember the peace of her pull at your hips

the wet of her kiss

cover your body with the memory of her grasp

forget the girl you were in new york city

and the turmoil she gave you

forget the way you tumbled yourself

crossing the continent to catch her breath

forget the wind trying to push itself through your heart

keep the glass pain shut

locked

forget the crackle call of closure

crawl yourself

back to your center of the world

move your body

do not be still

do not be left behind

again

do not forget to look for the shake of departure in her eyes

the quiet quiver of a drunken mistakes disguise

dance all the move back into your body

until all earth is just a still marble trying to hold you

conquer the weight of gravity

remember the way it once made you so still you forgot you were alive

remember the morning you woke up without your skin

how you had to find pieces of yourself in the memory of mistakes

and all the love you left unmade

remember what happens to a set of bones that fails to stay in motion

and a that woman who gives herself to a closed window

is never more than a whisper condensating on a glass pain

she will always fade

not even her breath will remember her name