goodbyeing

how odd that

every single life you build

out of air and water and what

once felt like love

will leave. this one too, 

the afternoon light fine-tuning a rosy orange

on your walls, the tang of morning yoghurt,

the jamun wrapped in newspaper a friend

brought you at a party. how your hair

falls to the sides and flaps in the wind

on your scooter. the majesty of coconut trees

on the way home, long leaf-fingers quivering.

someday, sooner or later, goodbye to all this.

not the first goodbye and not nearly the last.

i've said goodbye to more. to days that felt

more real than these. to ankles that tangled

with mine for months. i've said goodbye

to snow, goodbye to dust storms, goodbye

to my childhood. goodbye to the dreams 

too heavy to carry, even to some fears

i thought were woven into my bones.

turns out nothing is woven

into my bones, not even my unsturdy i.

someday, goodbye too to this body,

unpredictable and ashen, sometimes

glowing before dusk, sometimes giddy.

turns out i can carry nothing, not even

myself. how odd this life made only

of lightness. no point living unless

you open your heart-gates, let longing

stream into the world. love everything,

let it pile upon you. know it will

fall away, every last crumb. still you add

another card, another card, until an angle

makes everything crumble. again you build,

over all the years. get better at losing. a heart

that knows love is a heart that knows loss.

where else to go but onwards, confused

and empty and full and giddy and onwards.