To Dust

When we made plans to stitch our names into the stars

I bought a sewing machine

With last week’s pay.

I spent the nights between three jobs incandescent

Practising

With cheap black thread on old t-shirts

The million ways I could spell your name

When we watched the Geminids from our backyard

Litter the sky with flaming stones

You said your heart was restless

And by the way you said those words I knew you had been for a while

I began to hear their echoes

Floating in my breakfast cereal.

When the registration was due

Your voice grew tired.

When the safe was stolen

You said nothing.

I sold the sewing machine.

When we made plans to stitch our names into the stars

We still said each other’s names.

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