The ghost of your fingers in my hair comforted me all week-
A reminder that even though the world feels unsteady I still have solid ground somewhere.
And I’ve lost track of the date on my phone again-
Days blend into nightfall as I try to collect myself
through rolling waves of insurmountable grief over my dad,
How unfair is it that I’ve had to spend more time missing him in life than I had
making memories with him?
Life almost taught you that lesson recently, too.
You bleed in and out of my phone now-
Carrying things too heavy to talk about alone and I;
I lay in bed at night and wonder if a part of you
never left that pavement in the same way I never left that living room.
Maybe that’s why I refuse to let you stand there alone.
When I closed my eyes,
I could still feel your fingertips in my hair.
A reminder that even when the ground is a bed of glacial silt-
You remain solid.
