As All Things Lead to You

All things lead to you my love,

and at nights like this

that the unbearable weight

of your absence

filled my insides — liquids, blood, flesh

with such a terrible sadness

of nights like this

that every sentence of your letters

wounds the heart to bleed

and i curl up and die in the crimson moon

but still,

I love you as all the tiniest of you, memories

instilled in me

from your smile to your soft hands, little fingers

and small feet;

I kept you in me.

but at nights like this when

I remember your head rested in my arm

of our embraces,

my hand to your hand

and your lips that smiled only for me

that I have come to understand a sadness

that could never be bounded in poetry

nor pinned in this very page

Of nights like this that

I love you more than I had known

you are not with me and

my longing leads all things to you,

my love, my own, my sadness.


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