a few heartbeats apart
you’re so close to being alive.
memories of you swirl in my head and i can hear you and i can see you and i can feel you.
you’re drunk and you’re stumbling and you’re boxing and you’re dancing and you’re pulling me over in a mustang with red and blue lights.
you’re trying to land a corkscrew at panama city beach but you keep kicking sand onto an old man and he’s starting to give you a look.
we’re in saint louis and we’re underneath the arch and a pigeon is squirming in your little hands.
you’re everywhere and everything,
and i’m on the carpet of my apartment floor and there’s cat hair on my sweatshirt and it feels like my chest is concaving.
i sit and stare and watch it rise and fall.
i watch my skin pulse as my heart beats.
i think of what it means to be alive.
of what it meant.
existence and nonexistence are just a matter of noise.
and then you didn’t.
sometimes i hold my breath until my chest hurts
and my heart slows,
but it never stops.
we’re only ever a few heartbeats