like a gentle breeze warmed by the sun,
you pour over me in a steady stream, constantly.
i cannot escape you—not that an attempt will follow this poem,
but you’ve subdued me in the most peculiar manner.
you gave me room to dream.
it was then i found how close the proximity of grief is to love.
loving you is grieving you.
i am swollen with your eulogy.
i carry you in a way atlas knows nothing about.
i love you in a way that’s inexplicable to others,
outside of time and reason—you are,
and i love.