I gathered my eyes from glass
Wednesday night:
diluted reflection of textbooks
clock-tower moonlight and shrieking
summons across sprawling lawns.
Blue and white bloodstream can’t breathe
can’t stay for long.

This moment sponge-bath realization,
leavingleavingleaving,
turns my knuckles white
around the sink
but every second is
columns of obituaries
in waterfall fading print:
punctuation marching
through distracted conscience.

Andrew carved his name
black ink fingerprints
into my corner desk;
who watched sharp youth
circle of faces ripple
and stretch like highway blur;
who vanished,
raindrops’ pressure points
on cement.

Leaving has become
fitting my toes into foggy footprints.

My last bookcover grass-stained studying
bare feet on armillory sphere
you’re like a sister
sunbaked laughter day
makes me wonder what colors
I wear next.

Emotional hiccups eyes dry stomach heavy.

Underneath the streams of goodbye
hands trembling under paper-cut diplomas
tears sinking into salty soil…
I feel solid in your arms
But evaporate and rise.