dissociation complete
the crisp spring light floods your stonecold grave where the first freesias of the new year bud under your sun that we’ve circled once since the end of the past. the circle is complete. this is it then, the final cut two wedding rings discarded the past shut off, with all the people in it and all the things that were left undone and left unsaid - flushed away in a flood of tears. I loved you, my sun, but my soul’s grown back, and I travel without you now onward onto an open ocean in a new solar system