Dear Sam,

When I squint my eyes
I can make your hair a single star  

points breaking around your head. 
Winter breaking inside of me.  

A cape of discarded color at my feet.
I talk the dirt out of my mouth.  

I am no expert. I shine my dim light  
and you're out there breaking glass.

I filled a whole notebook with you once  
but still you were missing. There are pink stars

on the red formica table. The mattress  
a pulse of argument. Next year

New York will be different  
but tonight the moon is a white spine  

and a small candle burns
our shadows into the wall.

Comments

[Regina]

Wow- I LOVE this. There is so much here that goes right to the heart of a person, someone that has loved and lost love...
Favorite line... "The mattress
a pulse of argument."
Incredible feeling evoked here.
Oh, Sage- thanks for sharing this...
x

[chloe De Segonzac]

I filled my whole notebook with you once
but still you were missing.

Fabulous!

[soapstone]

That was a great poem. I really enjoyed it.

[Mari L'Esperance]

This is lovely, Sage. Something from our NYU days?

[Eliza]

______ Awesome!

Really. :) Thank you for sharing!

[Cat]

:::beautiful:::

[TerresaWellborn]

Gorgeous.

[Sage Cohen]

Thanks so much!