Sticky
Does letting go
make a sound?
Do you recognize it
when you hear it?
Is it distinct,
like the sound of pulling velcro loose?
Or is it the silence afterwards?
I don't know when it happened.
You'd think I'd notice
a thing so profound.
Not me.
But in that space
that lies between lost and found
smiling ceased to feel fake
and I began to laugh
without remembering
that you were not there
laughing with me.
Yesterday...after sunset
the sky was red
and my little heroes and I marveled
without one thought of you.
I cannot explain the sweetness of that,
nor the splendor of finding myself beautiful.
It drips like honey,
down the chin.
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