The more I leave the more I realize
I am always searching,
hunting for corners of earth
where I can pry back floorboards, loose bricks,
to tuck away a bit of myself to come back to, later–
like tattered bookmarks, graffiti; like children.
And here is the point of everything I have been trying to say to you:
We must love people twice over,
first with the ferocity that we will never see them again in this lifetime,
and then with the certainty that we will see them
and carry them with us
in our ribcages,
for the rest of our lives.